f Library of Congress. I 



Chap 
Shelf.-- 






V UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. gQflg 



UNIVERSAL HISTORY 



UNIVERSAL HISTORY 

THE OLDEST HISTORICAL GROUP OF NATIONS 
AND THE GREEKS 



BY 

LEOPOLD von KANKE 



EDITED BY 

G. W. PROTHERO 

FELLOW AND TUTOR OF KING'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE 



NEW YORK 
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 

18S5 



61269 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. 



No apology can be needed for introducing to English 
readers the latest work of Leopold von Ranke. Even if the 
name of the author were not sufficient justification, it might 
be found in the fact that no similar attempt to present a con- 
nected view of Universal History exists in the English lan- 
guage. The scope and aim of the work, of which only a first 
instalment is here presented, are explained by the author in 
his preface. All, therefore, that is incumbent on the editor 
is to describe the way in which the translation has been pro- 
duced, and to point out some slight departures from the orig- 
inal. 

The first half of the present volume was translated by the 
Rev. D. C. Tovey, Assistant Master at Eton College; the 
second half and the preface were translated by the editor. 
Both portions have been carefully revised by Mr. F.W. Cornislj, 
Assistant Master at Eton College. The whole work when in 
proof was finally gone over again by the editor, who is solely 
responsible for the form in which it eventually appears. 
Great care has been taken to represent the ideas and thoughts 
of the author with the utmost fidelity, and even, wherever 
the nature of the language permits, to preserve his actual ex- 
pressions. Whatever other defects may be noted, I feel con- 
fident that here, at least, the reader will seldom have occasion 
to complain. 

I have ventured to depart from the original in two partic- 



v i EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

ulars, namely, the spelling of proper names and the treat- 
ment of the notes. In the Egyptian, Assyrian, and Jewish 
proper names which occur in the Bible, I have adopted the 
Biblical form as being more familiar to English readers, ad- 
hering in other cases to that adopted by Herr von Eanke. In 
Greek names, while the author preserves the Latinized forms 
which were iu ordinary use till our own time, I have preferred, 
in deference to modern opinion, to attempt a nearer repre- 
sentation of the original. In the transliteration of Greek 
names it is very difficult, if not impossible, to be quite con- 
sistent; and I do not pretend to have solved the problem. 
Believing, however, that in a work of this kind it is well to 
avoid so complete a transformation as would be involved by 
an attempt exactly to reproduce the original, and that an ap- 
proximation to the correct sound is more important than 
philological accuracy, I have adopted the following rules. 

In those cases where the word is completely disguised by 
the Latin form, as Aias or Odysseus, it is easy and on every 
ground desirable to restore the Greek form, and I have accord- 
ingly done so without hesitation. But the great majority of 
Greek names have not suffered so violent a metamorphosis, 
and in these cases a return to the Greek is not so indispen- 
sable. Nevertheless, here too some approximation seems to 
be called for. The most important departure from the Greek 
is caused by the substitution of the Latin C for the Greek K. 
Accordingly, where the Greek K occurs, I have used the 
corresponding English letter, retaining the ordinary spelling 
wherever it does not pervert the sound of the word. Thus, I 
write Alkibiades and Ivimon, but Critias and Pericles. The 
only exceptions to this rule are those words which, through 
Biblical or other usage, have been, in a sense, incorporated in 
the English language, as, for instance, Cyrus, Cyprus, Cilicin. 
The sibilation which gives to English ears so false an idea of 
the Greek tongue is thus, as a rule, avoided. Secondly, I 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. v {{ 

have endeavored to indicate not only sound, but quantity, by 
restoring the diphthong in words like Dareius, Aristeides, 
Nikrea, ./Egasan. In the terminations, however, I have gener- 
ally retained the ordinary form, as Menelaus, Phalerum, not 
thinking it worth while to make a change in this respect. 

In dealing with the notes, I have acted on the conviction 
that it is important in a work of this kind, treating of the 
broad facts of history rather than its details, and edited for an 
English public, to trouble the reader with as few notes as pos- 
sible. I have, therefore, in the first place, generally incorpo- 
rated the chronological notes in the text, retaining, however, 
in their former position such as indicate any divergence of 
authority with respect to dates, or touch on disputed points 
of chronology. I have thought it unnecessary to reprint mere 
references to ancient writers in support or illustration of 
accepted facts in Biblical or Greek history, while keeping 
those in which Herr von Eanke acknowledges his obligations 
to modern authors. All notes containing any controversial 
matter or anything additional to the text have, of course, been 
retained in full. In no case has anything been added. The 
second volume of the German edition concludes with an ap- 
pendix on the chronology of Eusebius, which has not been 
translated, since those readers who wish to go deeply into the 
subject will doubtless be able and willing to consult it in the 
original. Lastly, the quotations from the Old Testament 
which occur in the text have been given as they stand in the 
English Authorized Version, and therefore differ slightly here 
and there from the form given by Herr von Eanke. 

For the index to this volume, and for other valuable assist- 
ance, I have gratefully to acknowledge my obligations to my 
wife. 

In conclusion, it should be mentioned that the work, in the 
German edition, already extends to about the end of the sixth 
century of our era, occupying altogether a space equal to four 



v iii EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

volumes similar to that now presented to the public. The 
author intends to complete the work by bringing it down to 
our own day, and when finished it will probably occupy some 
six or seven such volumes. It must depend on the reception 
of this instalment by the public whether the translation will 
be continued. 

G. W. Peotheeo. 



PREFACE. 



History cannot discuss the origin of society, for the art of 
writing, which is the basis of historical knowledge, is a com- 
paratively late invention. The earth had become habitable 
and was inhabited, nations had arisen and international con- 
nections had been formed, and the elements of civilization had 
appeared, while that art was still unknown. The province of 
History is limited by the means at her command, and the 
historian would be over-bold who should venture to unveil the 
mystery of the primeval world, the relation of mankind to 
God and nature. The solution of such problems must be in- 
trusted to the joint efforts of Theology and Science. 

From this primeval world we pass to the monuments of a 
period less distant but still inconceivably remote, the vesti- 
bule, as it were, of History. These monuments have hitherto 
excited the admiration and defied the intelligence of succes- 
sive generations, but during the last hundred years we have 
obtained more accurate information and a clearer understand- 
ing of them than were possessed before. In our own day the 
ruins of buried cities have been disinterred, and buildings 
have been discovered, on the walls of which the mightiest 
monarchs of their day caused their deeds to be inscribed. 
Archaeological investigation is now everywhere pursued with 
a sort of filial affection, and every new fact brought to light is 
greeted as a fortunate discovery, while art and antiquity have 
become almost identical conceptions. These monuments of 



x PREFACE. 

the past are naturally connected with the relics, unfortu- 
nately but too fragmentary, of the ancient religions, rituals, 
and constitutions which have survived to our own time. 
Around the various centres of investigation groups of studies 
have grown up, each of which forms a department by itself 
and demands the devoted attention of a lifetime. Lastly, a 
universal science of language has arisen, which, based upon 
lcarnin<r as minute as it is extensive, undertakes with success 
the task of distinguishing and contrasting international re- 
lationships. 

For the direction of all who are interested in these re- 
searches, as well as for the instruction of the public at large, 
nothing could be more desirable than a scientific synopsis 
and correlation of these various studies. Such a work would 
fittingly adorn an encyclopaedia of historical knowledge, but 
it cannot be introduced into Universal History, which claims 
as its province only the ascertained results of historical re- 
search. History begins at the point where monuments be- 
come intelligible and documentary evidence of a trustworthy 
character is forthcoming, but from this point onwards her 
domain is boundless. Universal History, as we understand 
the term, embraces the events of all times and nations, with 
this limitation only, that they shall be so far ascertained as 
to make a scientific treatment of them possible. 

The historians of bygone days were satisfied with the con- 
ception of the four great empires of the world, drawn from 
the prophetic books of the Bible. As late as the seventeenth 
century this conception prevailed, but in the eighteenth it 
was upset by the general progress of civilization. Through 
the revolution in ideas which then took place the notion of 
Universal History was, as it were, secularized, a result chiefly 
due to 1116 publication of a voluminous record of different 
nations under the title of a "Universal History," which, appear- 
ing in England, was welcomed by German scholars and incited 



PREFACE. x j 



the latter to a display of similar industry. But it was impos- 
sible to remain content with the history of individual nations. 
A collection of national histories, whether on a larger or a 
smaller scale, is not what we mean by Universal History, for 
in such a work the general connection of things is liable to be 
obscured. To recognize this connection, to trace the sequence 
of those great events which link all nations together and con- 
trol their destinies, is the task which the science of Universal 
History undertakes. That such a connection exists a o-lance 
is enough to show. 

The first beginnings of culture belong to an epoch whose 
secrets we are unable to decipher, but its development is the 
most universal phenomenon of those times concerning which 
trustworthy tradition is forthcoming. Its nature cannot be 
expressed completely by any one word. It embraces both 
religious and political life, with all that is fundamental in law 
and society. From time to time the institutions of one or 
other of the Oriental nations, inherited from primeval times, 
have been regarded as the germ from which all civilization 
has sprung. But the nations whose characteristic is eternal 
repose form a hopeless starting-point for one who would under- 
stand the internal movement of Universal History. The na- 
tions can be regarded in no other connection than in that of 
the mutual action and reaction involved by their successive 
appearance on the stage of history and their combination into 
one progressive community. 

Culture or civilization, by whichever name we choose to 
call it, contains one of the most powerful motives of internal 
development. To forecast its ultimate aim would be a fruit- 
less task, for the movement of Universal History is infinite 
in the range of its results. The limits of historical inquiry 
confine our attention to the various phases in which this 
element of culture appears, side by side with the opposition 
which in eacli of them it encounters from the inveterate 



x ii PREFACE. 

peculiarities of the different nations and tribes with whom it 
comes in contact. These peculiarities, again, have their origi- 
nal justification and possess an inextinguishable vitality. 

But historical development does not rest on the tendency 
towards civilization alone. It arises also from impulses of a 
very different kind, especially from the rivalry of nations 
engaged in conflict with each other for the possession of the 
soil or for political supremacy. It is in and through this 
conflict, affecting as it does all the domain of culture, that 
the great empires of history are formed. In their unceasing 
struggle for dominion the peculiar characteristics of each 
nation are modified by universal tendencies, but at the same 
time resist and react upon them. 

Universal History would degenerate into mere theory and 
speculation if it were to desert the firm ground of national 
history, but just as little can it afford to cling to this ground 
alone. The history of each separate nation throws light on 
the history of humanity at large ; but there is a general his- 
torical life, which moves progressively from one nation or 
group of nations to another. In the conflict between the 
different national groups Universal History comes into being, 
while, at the same time, the sense of nationality is aroused, 
for nations do not draw their impulses to growth from them- 
selves alone. ^Nationalities so powerful and distinct as the 
English or the Italian are not so much the offspring of the 
soil and the race as of the great events through which they 
have passed. 

"We have therefore to investigate and understand not only 
the universal life of mankind, but the peculiarities of at any 
rate the more prominent nations. In this attempt the laws of 
historical criticism, which hold good in every detailed inquiry, 
may on no account be neglected, for it is only the results of 
critical investigation which can be dignified with the title of 
history at all. Our glance must indeed be always fixed on 



PREFACE. x iii 

the universal, but from false premises only false conclusions 
can be drawn. Critical inquiry and intelligent generalization 
are mutually indispensable. 

In conversation with intimate friends I have often discussed 
the question whether it be possible to write a Universal 
History on such principles as these. We came to the con- 
clusion that perfection was not to be attained, but that it 
was none the less necessary to make the attempt. Such an 
attempt I now lay before the public. My point of view 
throughout has been the following: In the course of ages the 
human race has won for itself a sort of heirloom in the ma- 
terial and social advance which it has made, but still more in 
its religious development. One portion of this heritage, the 
most precious jewel of the whole, consists of those immortal 
works of genius in poetry and literature, in science and art, 
which, while modified by the local conditions under which 
they were produced, yet represent what is common to all 
mankind. With this possession are inseparably combined the 
memories of events, of ancient institutions, and of great men 
who have passed away. One generation hands on this tradi- 
tion to another, and it may from time to time be revived and 
recalled to the minds of men. This is the thought which 
gives me courage and confidence to undertake the task. 



CONTENTS. 



THE OLDEST HISTORICAL GROUP OF NATION'S AND THE 

GREEKS. 

CUAI". PAGE 

I. AMON-RA, BAAL, JEHOVAH, AND ANCIENT EGYPT 1 

II. THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL 38 

III. TYRE AND ASSUR 59 

IV. THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM 89 

V. ANCIENT HELLAS 116 

VI. THE ENCOUNTER BETWEEN THE GREEKS AND THE PER- 
SIAN EMPIRE 153 

VII. THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY AND ITS LEADERS 191 

1. Aristcidcs and Pericles as Opponents of Kimon 194 

2. The Administration of Pericles 209 

3. Clcon and his Epoch 227 

4. Alkibiades 211 

5. State of Tilings at Athens during the Years immediately Before 

and After the End of the Peloponnesian War. 2C3 

VIII. ANTAGONISM AND GROWTH OF RELIGIOUS IDEAS IN GREEK 

• LITERATURE 280 

1. The Older Philosophers in the Colonies, especially in those of the 

West 280 

2. Pindar 284 

3. iEschylus 289 

4. Sophocles ; . 294 

5. Euripides 300 

C. Herodotus and Thukydides 305 

7. Intellectual Life at Athens 317 

8. Socrates 323 

9. Plato and Aristotle 329 



xv i CONTENTS. 

BOAT. PAGE 

IX. THE RELATIONS OF PERSIA AND GREECE DURING THE 

FIRST HALF OF THE FOURTH CENTURY, B.C 342 

X. THE UNIVERSAL MONARCHY OF MAKEDONIA 3G7 

1. King Philip and Demosthenes , 3G8 

2. Alexander the Great 393 

XI. ORIGIN OF THE GEiECO-MAKEDONIAN KINGDOMS 412 

XII. A GLANCE AT CARTHAGE AND SYRACUSE 4G9 

INDEX 485 



UNIVERSAL HISTORY. 



Chapter I. 
AMON-RA, BAAL, JEHOVAH, AND ANCIENT EGYPT. 

In the dawn of history the popular conceptions of things 
divine are found to coincide with the tendencies of human 
life and the spirit of political organization. They summarize 
and express those tendencies and that spirit in a form more 
intelligible to us than any detailed description of circumstances 
and institutions. The ideal to which humanity aspires is al- 
ways a divine ideal, and the efforts of mankind, however 
strong may be the alien influence of physical conditions, are 
unceasingly directed towards this goal. With these concep- 
tions, therefore, I begin. 

In ancient Egypt we meet with three distinct forms in 
which men have shadowed forth their consciousness of divine 
things. The first is one, so to speak, aboriginal, arising from 
and corresponding to the nature of the soil. In all times men 
have premised and thought themselves justified in assuming 
an immediate and local influence on the part of their divini- 
ties. This form I distinguish by the most general name — the 
worship of the Egyptians. It corresponded to the founda- 
tions of the life and culture of the nation. But the possession 
of the soil becomes the prize for which other nations contend. 
Egypt, a rich and self-sufficing region, excited the cupidity of 
neighboring races which served other gods. Under the name 
of the Shepherd-peoples, foreign despots and races ruled Egypt 
for several centuries. These followed the ensigns of another 
god, who, however, was not peculiar to themselves, but bc- 

1 



2 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

longed to all the peoples of Western Asia. This was the god 
Baal, who appears in Egypt under the name Sutech, and is 
held accursed as the evil principle. As might naturally be 
expected, a deadly struggle broke out between the two relig- 
ions. The result was that the Egyptian worship not only 
reinstated itself and expelled the invader, but sought out and 
vanquished the latter in its own home. But even while these 
two religions were struggling with each other, there arose a 
third, in which the Divine Idea was exalted above nature. 
This religion Egypt cannot be properly said to have expelled; 
it emancipated itself by its own power. The steps by which 
this religion, when it had once made itself independent, ob- 
tained the supremacy over all other forms of religious wor- 
ship, and became one of the fundamental principles both of 
Islam and of the Christian world, form one of the most im- 
portant elements in universal history. From the very first 
this religion developed itself in opposition to the ancient wor- 
ship of Egypt. 

The Egyptian religion has its origin in an epoch which 
we lack the means of investigating. In inquiring into its 
meaning and purport, we have no intention of encroaching 
upon those labors by which modern research endeavors to 
clear up this obscure subject. Egypt forms the conclusion of 
an introductory chapter of human history, a period of incon- 
ceivable duration, whose most precious legacy consists of the 
more ancient Egyptian monuments. In this epoch the relig- 
ion of the country had its beginning, a religion to which, 
with all its defects, we must assign a world-wide signifi- 
cance. 

The cosmic phenomena, by which life on earth is gener- 
ally conditioned, dominate it nowhere so absolutely as in the 
mysterious region which is called Egypt. Everything rests 
upon the fact that the Nile by its inundations has turned the 
land near its banks in the midst of the desert into a soil ca- 
pable of cultivation, and by its alluvial deposits has gradu- 
ally converted the bay into which it originally fell into one of 
the richest plains in the world. Chemical analysis has shown 
that there is nowhere a more fruitful soil than that formed by 
the mud of the Nile. These overflows, however, which have 



KELIGION. 3 

not only fertilized the land, but have even partially created 
it, are limited to fixed seasons of the year. They occur, 
though not always to the same extent, yet with absolute cer- 
titude at the times once for all determined. 

The language of ancient Egypt has been supposed to pre- 
sent a distant affinity with the Semitic tongues. But, isolated 
as they were by nature, it is no wonder if the Egyptians 
framed a religion exclusively their own, and a political con- 
stitution equally peculiar. Both were based upon the physical 
conditions alluded to above. The inundation which flooded 
the whole country was but a single event. It was necessary, 
therefore, that the whole country should be under one govern- 
ment, with power to guide the water into districts which oth- 
erwise it might not have reached, and to re-establish the limits 
of individual property, which were on each occasion effaced. 
Such a power there was ; otherwise the people would have 
been condemned to simple slavery. Where the ordinary and 
habitual conditions of agriculture exist, a territorial nobility 
may be established which, gathered in cities, assumes repub- 
lican forms. Here, however, where the fixity of property is 
dependent upon occurrences which affect all without dis- 
tinction, the prevision and active forethought of a single su- 
preme pow r er are necessarily implied. The deity, whose or- 
daining hand is to be recognized in the course of the sun, 
upon which everything depends, and the king, who devises 
the arrangements for security upon earth, are in idea indis- 
soluble connected. On the monuments, indeed, we see the 
king presenting to the god emblems representative of the 
different provinces, each with attributes of an agricultural 
nature. The gods appear under divergent names, varying 
with the chief towns and provinces in which they w 7 ere wor- 
shipped. To the principal of them, however, Ra, Ptah, Amon, 
the same designations are assigned. They form but one di- 
vinity under different names. A hero who wished to see the 
god Amon met with a refusal. The Divine, it was said, re- 
vealed itself only through its works, and under a multiplicity 
of forms. God is not, properly speaking, the creator of the 
world. He did not say, " Let there be light," and there was 
light ; he summoned the sun, which accordingly must have 



4 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

been in existence already, and prescribed his course. There 
are, however, opposing elements which exert themselves to 
disturb the order introduced into the universe by the deity. 
The deity is further identified with the Nile, the chief sup- 
port and basis of life, no less than with the sun itself, and is 
manifested in the animal world even more immediately than 
in man. The bull Apis is the living type of the god Osiris, 
who is regarded especially as the giver of all good. 

Man is not considered as an incarnation of deity, although 
the legend makes him spring from the eye of deity, the sun. 
He was at first without speech or language ; this as well as 
everything else was taught him by the gods. Religious wor- 
ship was the principal business of the Egyptian : properly 
speaking, there was nothing profane in the land. There was 
a numerous priesthood, which everywhere represented the 
national religion, and was besides in possession of the science 
and experience by which everything is regulated. Nor is 
the science of Egypt to be spoken of with contempt. The 
Egyptians, in this rivalling Babylon, determined the course 
of the sun in relation to the earth, and divided the year ac- 
cordingly. Their system was at once so scientific and so 
practical, that Julius Caesar adopted their calendar and intro- 
duced it within the Roman empire. The rest of the world 
followed suit, and for seventeen centuries it was in universal 
use. Among the relics of primeval times the calendar may 
be regarded as the one which has attained to most conspicu- 
ous influence in the world. 

With this idea of God is closely associated the monarchical 
authority. The king is not only established by God, he is 
himself of the lineage of God, and returns to God when he 
dies. Never were there rulers who made it more their con- 
cern to oppose to the perishable nature of things, imperish- 
able monuments. The traveller who visits the pyramids of 
Gizeh stands in silent awe as he gazes upon these gigantic 
monuments of the remotest antiquity in their mysterious 
solitude. They stand there lonely in time as in space. The 
appeal of a great general of modern times to his troops, 
" Forty centuries look down upon you," was perhaps after all 
an inadequate expression of the truth. Innumerable are the 



MONARCHY. 5 

centuries which look down from the pyramids upon the races 
of to-day. 

In spite of all the efforts of research, we have, as one of the 
most distinguished Egyptologists has expressly admitted, not 
advanced far beyond Herodotus in positive knowledge of an- 
cient Egyptian history. Now, as then, the first founder of 
the monarchy appears to have been that Menes who, descend- 
ing from Thinis, founded Memphis, " the goodly dwelling." 
The great dike which he built to protect the town against 
the inundations of the Nile afforded at the same time a secure 
stronghold for the dominion over the Delta. According to a 
legend preserved elsewhere, Menes succumbed in a struggle 
with a crocodile while engaged in his task of subduing the 
hostile powers of nature. Of all the names out of which the 
three dynasties in immediate succession to Menes have been 
compiled, nothing memorable is recorded. In the fourth dy- 
nasty at length appear the builders of the great pyramids, 
the noble sepulchral monuments of epochs inconceivably re- 
mote. 

It is easy to see even at the present time from how great a 
distance the blocks of stone have been brought to form a flat 
surface round the monument to be erected. The foundations 
of the building were cased in granite. The regular entrances 
were closed by trap-doors of granite. The long passages lead- 
ing to the sepulchral chambers are constructed upon an ad- 
mirable plan. The chambers themselves were entirely carved 
out of the rock, with the exception of the roof, which was 
formed of huge blocks of limestone. In the very centre of 
the building is found the sarcophagus, which in the two larg- 
est pyramids is without any inscription. The name of the 
builder, however, was given in an inscription on a slab of 
granite outside. The amount of force employed is as remark- 
able as the architectural skill displayed throughout. These 
structures belong to this region and this alone. Tradition 
was not agreed whether they were erected in complete har- 
mony with the Egyptian gods or in defiance of them ; the 
first of the builders are called arrogant enemies of the gods, 
the last builder their servant and the friend of the nation by 
whom they are worshipped. 



6 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

Even after this, however, we find only a list of names to 
which no actions are attributed that conld give them any sig- 
nificance. We pass on to the so-called sixth dynasty, which 
is made significant through the name of Nitocris, or, as it also 
appears on the monuments, Nitagrit. We are familiar with 
the heroic legend which Herodotus was told, how that Nito- 
cris was exalted to be queen by the magnates of the land, who 
had slain her husband ; and how she avenged his murder 
upon them, inviting those implicated in the crime into a sub- 
terranean hall, into which she brought a canal from the river, 
so that they were destroyed. But this action made life im- 
possible for her; she threw herself into a space enclosed by a 
wall and filled with red-hot embers, and died. 

The murder of a king, a crafty woman's revenge, the de- 
struction of the guilty by the river, the suicide of the queen 
in red-hot embers, interrupt the first series of Egyptian kings 
with a story which could have been conceived nowhere else 
but in the valley of the Nile. I do not venture to fix a time 
in which these occurrences could be placed.* They belong, if 
I mistake not, to the traditions which have passed as a heri- 
tage from the remotest antiquity to later generations. After 
this five hundred years pass by, about which the monuments 
are practically silent. An occurrence such as that must have 
been which forms the historic foundation of the story of Ni- 
tocris could not fail to bring the most intricate complications 
in its train. Yet the unity of Egypt was maintained. The 
dynasty which appears as the twelfth in the successive se- 
ries, and which had its capital no longer at Memphis, but at 
Thebes, extended the territory towards the north and south, 
formed a well-secured frontier, and left as its legacy a work of 
hydraulic engineering the aim of which exactly includes and 
expresses the principle which gives the land of the Nile its 
unity. Herodotus had seen and admired the Lake Mceris ; 
the name of the King Moeris, to whom he attributed it, rests 



* I must not be misunderstood. I yield to none in my admiration for 
the industry and attention -which antiquaries have devoted to the chro- 
nological order of the kings ; but it can form no part of my design to fol- 
low them into these regions. 



THE PYRAMIDS. 7 

upon a misconception. But the work, magnificent in its very 
ruins, still exists. It is not a natural lake, but an excavated 
reservoir, with enormous dikes about fifty feet in width, and 
it was designed, when the Nile rose, to receive the waters 
which might perhaps have worked mischief in the Delta, and 
to reserve them for times when the inundation of the country 
did not attain the height requisite for its fertility. In the 
water was to be seen the colossus of stone which perpetuated 
the memory of the constructor, Amenemhat III.; for to reg- 
ulate the inundations was the principal business of a ruler of 
Egypt. It must have been in close connection with this duty, 
if not expressly on account of it, that this prince and the dy- 
nasty to which he belonged extended the frontier, in order to 
obtain in due time information of the rising of the Nile and 
to transmit it to the plains below. 

In the sepulchral chamber of Chnumhotep, one of the pro- 
vincial governors under this dynasty, w T e discover the names of 
the kings. Much instruction ma} r be gained from these sepul- 
chral chambers, and we venture to linger over them for a mo- 
ment, since they bring before our eyes, at least in individual 
instances, the condition of the country at a significant period.* 

In the sepulchral chambers of Beni-Hassan, Chnumhotep 
appears in the midst of his own possessions, which, from the 
districts in the east, whose guardianship has been confided to 
him by the king, extend far into the west. We see him rep- 
resented in heroic proportions in the midst of the waters, 
fields, and groves which the inscription assigns to him, while 
his people are threading the Nile in barks. In the water are 
to be seen crocodiles, hippopotami, and fish ; on the bank are 
papyrus plants, on which we can distinguish an ichneumon, at 
which he is aiming his spear; above are water-fowl, and a 
tree, upon the branches of which birds are sitting. On the 
other side we see him holding in his hand a number of water- 
fowl which he has killed. Still more imposing is he as gov- 



* It is scarcely necessary to mention that I avail myself of the excel- 
lent monumental work which Lepsius was enabled to execute by the mu- 
nificence of Frederick William IV. Cf. Lepsius, " Denkmaler," Bd. iii. 
Abth.2,Bd.i. 130. 



8 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

crnor and deputy of the king. He is the subject of a design 
which has been much discussed, in which neighboring tribes 
are represented paying him homage. An Egyptian scribe is 
handing to the deputy a sheet of papyrus. The visitors have 
come to offer him cosmetics for the eyes, probably for the 
adornment of his women. Another Egyptian to whom he has 
intrusted the charge of entertaining the strangers seems to be 
introducing them. We see the chieftain splendidly dressed, 
with eyes downcast, and at his side a noble ibex, behind 
him his son, also with a young ibex. Behind them appear 
several personages in rich costume with bow and spear. 
They belong, as the inscription says, to the tribe Amu. 
Ibexes such as they are bringing are found to this day in the 
peninsula of Sinai. In a second section of the procession 
four tall and carefully dressed women occupy a conspicuous 
place ; their luxuriant hair falls over their shoulders, and is 
compressed in front by a band across the forehead. It seems 
doubtful whether they belong to the family of the strangers 
or are being offered as a present. Before and behind them 
are beasts of burden carrying arms, and a lute-player depicted 
in the act of playing; last of all, again, a stately warrior 
armed with bow, quiver, and club. They appear to be allies 
offering homage to the deputy, who here represents the king. 
There is nothing to show that they are begging to be admit- 
ted as subjects, and it is clear from a single glance that there 
is no reference to the children of Israel. It is a scene from 
the most flourishing era of the Egyptian power. 

We see clearly how far the art of reproducing life in imita- 
tive forms had already progressed in Egypt. The most con- 
spicuous achievements in art are, however, the edifices them- 
selves, which satisfy the eye in their colossal grandeur, and, 
though not always what we should call classic, yet give con- 
stant evidence of technical skill and aptitude of a very ad- 
vanced kind. Colossal dimensions are combined with accu- 
racy of form, as in those statues of Memnon to which tradi- 
tion ascribes a vocal salutation to the rising sun. It is the 
dawn of artistic development for the whole human race. 

In those sepulchral chambers are conspicuous also the sym- 
bols of that worship of the gods which, though radically mod- 



PANTHEISM. 9 

ified by the nature of life in the valley of the Nile, yet still 
retains a religions import. Amon, even with his ram's head, 
appears a stately and truly divine form in contrast with those 
who are offering him their presents, their pitchers in their 
hands. It is very striking that the distinct divinities which 
are named beside him have yet the same attributes as his. 
These attributes imply that they owe their existence only to 
themselves and are the rulers of the world. The godhead, 
which, as we have already mentioned, would not reveal itself 
in its own form, appears also with the head of a falcon, and 
even in the form of a beetle, and in a thousand other shapes. 
The animal-worship of the Egyptians rests upon a presump- 
tion that the deity is in the habit of assuming certain animal 
forms. This did indeed degenerate into a brutish idolatry, 
but it was never forgotten that all was symbolical, and wor- 
ship was always given to the god concealed under an external 
form. The Egyptian conceptions may, in spite of instances 
of degeneracy, always be styled a religion, and form a panthe- 
ism embracing the whole phenomenal world and recurring 
even in man. Life was not ended in death ; it was assumed 
that it returned to its divine source. Another Nileland was 
imagined beyond the grave, the Egyptian having neither 
power nor inclination to sever himself from local associations. 
The soul of the pure is united to the Deity, and yet seems to 
retain its individuality, and is adored by posterity. Hence 
the extreme care bestowed upon the sepulchres ; in the sar- 
cophagus documents are placed, designed to show that the de- 
ceased is worthy of admission to another world. 

In the sepulchral chambers some light is thrown on the po- 
litical constitution of the country. The deputy above men- 
tioned says in praise of King Amenemhat II. that he has 
quelled an insurrection, " taken possession of one town after 
another, gathered information about each town and its terri- 
tories as far as the next town, set up their boundary stones 
and assessed their tributes." In the same inscription nothing 
is so strongly emphasized as the hereditary position of the 
deputies and princes of the districts. " My mother," says 
Chnumhotep, " succeeded to the possession of an hereditary 
dignity as daughter of a prince of the district of Memphis. 



10 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

A king, Amenemliat II., led me as a son of a noble house into 
the heritage of the princedom of my mother's father, accord- 
ins: to the greatness of his love of -justice."* 

Chnnmhotep makes special boast of the manner in which 
he displayed his zeal in reverencing the dead. " I did good 
for the dwellings of reverence," that is, of the dead, '"and 
their homes, and caused my portraits to be brought into the 
sacred dwelling, and bestowed on them due sacrifices of pure 
gifts, and appointed the priest to minister to them, and made 
him rich with gifts of fields and peasants." Another business 
which engaged him was the arrangement of the festivals, in 
which the union of the celestial and terrestrial phenomena is 
represented in a calendar. He quotes annual festivals — feast 
of the new year, feast of the little year, feast of the great year, 
feast of the end of the year; then monthly festivals — feast of 
the great burning, feast of the little burning, feast of the five 
reckoning days of the year, as well as a whole series of other 
festivals, which represent a sort of Egyptian fasti analogous 
to those of the Romans. The priest who neglects them is 
to be counted a thing of naught, and his son shall not sit upon 
his seat. 

For some time Egypt stood firm in all its unity and homo- 
geneity. It was rich and fertile, the granary for all neigh- 
boring tribes which then as now infested its borders. These 
invaders gradually overpowered the defence. The aliens 
took possession of the Delta, and pushed on farther still. 
They were tribes of Bedouin Arabs. In the sepulchral 
chambers are found also Phoenician names. It is an assertion 
of ancient date that Canaanitish tribes, especially Philistines, 
took part in the conquest. By later generations they were 
called Hyksos, by which name it is thought xVrabian leaders 
are meant. These are the Shepherd-kings to whom legend 
assigns the possession during several centuries of Lower 
Egypt. But here again we are referred to doubtful authori- 
ties. On the monuments the name of Hyksos has as yet not 



* Inscription translated in Brugsch, " Gesch. Aegyptens unter den Phar- 
aonen," pp. 141, 142, a work abounding in essential additions to our knowl- 
edge of the subject. 



THUTMOSIS I. -q 

once been found. It is undeniable that the Egyptian worship 
was expelled by that of the invaders. The god Sutech, whom 
they principally worshipped, is no other than the Baal whom 
the Canaanites adored. The struggle was no less religious 
than political. From a fragmentary papyrus we gather that a 
message was addressed by the chieftain of the shepherds to the 
Prince of the South, probably the Pharaoh of the Thebaid, 
and that the latter declared he could not permit any other 
god to be worshipped in the land save Amon-Ra. Out of 
this twofold opposition arose a war, through which Egypt 
gradually relieved herself from an oppressive and alien rule. 

Taken by itself, this event was not one of universal impor- 
tance ; Egypt simply resumed her former condition. But the 
great achievement had roused the Egyptians to national con- 
sciousness. They had now but one king, who was entitled Kino- 
of the Upper and Lower Country. They had everywhere ex- 
pelled the enemy. They now entered into commercial rela- 
tions with the Arabians. They felt themselves powerful in 
arms and richly provided with everything necessary for war. 
Hence it came about that Thutmosis I. formed a resolution to 
avenge upon the enemies of his country the wrong suffered 
in the epochs immediately preceding, or, as an inscription ex- 
presses it, « to wash his heart." Something like this has oc- 
curred, no doubt, at all times and places; but, in this case, the 
effort was attended with unusual success. It brought Egypt 
into relations with countries previously unknown To her, and 
its long-continued influence has occasioned great revolutions 
in the world's history. Thutmosis I. belongs to that brilliant 
series of Pharaohs which is reckoned as the eighteenth dy- 
nasty. His expeditions were especially directed against Eu- 
ten, under which name we are to understand Palestine and 
Syria. 

The progress of the movement thus spreading over those 
obscure regions is interrupted in the reign of Thutmosis II 
the elder son of Thutmosis I. ; the thread is resumed in his 
daughter Haschop. She established herself in possession of 
both crowns, and appears as queen or lady of the country 
under the name Makara. In her reign is to be placed the 
first sea voyage of which there is documentary evidence in 



12 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

the primitive history of the world. It was made to Punt, 
the land of balm, the land from which the Egyptians derived 
their origin, and which now submitted to the double crown. 
The vessels returned laden with rich and rare products from 
that region. This information is gathered from a sculptural 
representation illustrated with inscriptions. The stone nar- 
rates a story that appears almost fabulous, but the fact of a 
close connection between Egypt and Arabia stands out too 
clearly to be rejected. To the royal lady Makara belongs ac- 
cordingly the tirst place in the annals of navigation. Her 
undertaking preceded by many centuries the voyages of Sol- 
omon and of the Phoenicians to Ophir. Secure in the south, 
which yielded gold, and fortified by the wealth resulting from 
his commercial relations, Thutmosis III., the younger brother 
of Makara, whose reign is placed in the first half of the six- 
teenth century before our era, was enabled to enter upon a 
great struggle, the most important of all that Egypt had to 
undergo. This was the war with the Retennu, as the Egyp- 
tians called the Semitic nations to the east and north of 
Egypt. We may be permitted to repeat the accounts which 
are found in the inscriptions, colored though they are by par- 
tiality. The first maritime expedition finds its counterpart 
in the first systematic war by land which emerges with dis- 
tinctness from the mists of antiquity. From this point it 
begins to be the destiny of the human race to ripen and to 
develop through voyages by sea and wars between neighbor- 
ing races. What we gather gives us a glimpse at once into 
countries of peculiar organization, of which no other record 
is extant, and into a campaign of the oldest time and of a 
very singular description. 

The nations assailed had already been subdued once, but 
had regained their liberty, and, in particular, the neighboring 
tribes of the Ruten and the Phoenicians, with the exception of 
Gaza, had assumed a hostile attitude. In the inscriptions on 
the temple of Anion at Thebes the first and principal campaign 
of Thutmosis III. is depicted. To encounter the advancing 
monarch the tribes, whose localities extend as far as the Land 
Naharain (Mesopotamia), with the Chalu (Phoenicians) and 
the Kidu (Chittim), have united in one large host and taken 



THUTMOSIS III. 13 

Megiddo.* Contrary to the advice of his captains and trust- 
ing to his god, Thutmosis III. chooses the most dangerous 
road, in order to push his inarch farther. His captains sub- 
mit to Ills will, because the servant is bound to obey his mas- 
ter ; all their zeal is now devoted to following their king, and 
at the same time protecting him. They are successful in the 
battle so far as to remain masters of the field, and even to 
capture the tent of the hostile king. 

The Egyptians utter a shout of joy and give honor to 
Anion, the lord of Thebes, who has given victory to his son. 
All the neighboring princes come with their children, in 
order to make supplication before the king and to entreat 
breath for their nostrils — that is, life, which had, as it were, 
been forfeited through their turbulent rebellion. The mon- 
uments contain a list of the countries which, as it is said, had 
hitherto been uninvaded, and from which captives were now 
carried away. Among these Megiddo, Damascus, Beyrout, 
Taanach, Jappa, Mam re, are recognizable. The character of 
the war is learned from the inscription over a captain, who 
says of himself, " When his Holiness was come as far as to 
the land Naharain, I carried away three grown persons after 
a hand-to-hand conflict. I brought them before his Holiness 
as prisoners taken alive." In the Nubian temple of Amada 
constructed by Thutmosis III. in memory of all his prede- 
cessors and all the gods, he boasts of his victories, and of the 
execution done on his antagonists. He has with his own 
hand and with his battle club struck down seven princes who 
ruled over the land of Thachis. They lie gagged in the bows 
of the royal ship, the name of which appears as Ship of 
Amenemhotep II. (son of Thutmosis), the Sustainer of the 
Land. Five of these enemies were hung on the outside of 
the wall of Thebes. Throughout the monuments we may 

* Jerome identifies the Campus Megiddo with the Campus Magnus 
Legionis (" Onomasticum urbium et locorum S. Scripturae," in Ugolini, 
" Thesaurus Antiq. Sacrar." vol. v. p. ex. " Campus Magnus alio nomine 
in scriptura etiam dictus campus Esdrelon sive campus Megiddo"). 
Legio, however, an old Roman locality, appears in the later name, El- 
Ledjun, as Eeland has already demonstrated ("PalaBstina e monumentis 
veteribus illustrata," in Ugolini " Thesaurus,'' etc., vol. v. p. decexxxiv.). 



14 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

note the largess liberally bestowed by the king upon his 
warriors. 

The preponderance of Egypt over her neighbors thus es- 
tablished was maintained for many years. Under one of the 
succeeding kings, Tutanch-Amon, we see on one side a negro 
queen with rich gifts from her country, and on the other 
the red-skinned princes of the land of Ruten. " Grant us," 
say the latter, " freedom at thy hand. Beyond all telling 
are thy victories, and there is no enemy in thy time. The 
whole earth rests in peace." 

Once more the regular succession of the royal line was 
interrupted. King Sethos I. of the nineteenth dynasty had 
the hardest struggles to undergo. The Cheta appear as his 
most conspicuous opponents, and around them had been 
formed a union of nations embracing a large part of West- 
ern Asia. The seat of their chief was at Kadesh.* He had 
already made treaties with the Egyptians, which he is accused 
of having broken. Canaan, the name of which appears in 
the inscriptions dedicated to Sethos, is here seen in a charac- 
teristic state of balance between autonomy and dependence. 
It appears to consist of isolated cities whose kings are wor- 
shippers and suppliants of Baal in his several forms, and of 
Astarte. They are united in war and peace with the Egyp- 
tians, but otherwise independent. Sethos is led through his 
pursuit of Bedouin Arabs, called Schasu, who had pushed into 
Egypt, into the district of Canaan. Some localities are men- 
tioned which we encounter again in the Israelitish traditions. 
The Schasu and the Phoenician peoples who, though not 
united among themselves, are in alliance with them, are con- 
quered. Then Sethos turns his arms against Kadech. The 
inscriptions describe him not only as very brave and eager 
for the fight, but even as bloodthirsty. " His joy is to take 
up the fight, and his bliss is to rush into the battle. His heart 
is only appeased at the sight of the streams of blood, when he 
smites down the heads of his enemies." His two-horse char- 



* In the inscription (Brugscb, " Gesch. Acgyptens," etc., p. 4G2) it is 
said, " This is the going up of Pharaoh, when he went to conquer the 
land of Kadesh in the land of the Arnorite. 1 ' 



SETI. 15 

iot was called " Great in Victory." He directs his inarch 
against Kadesh, where he finds the herds of cattle grazing 
before the gates ; the town cannot resist his unexpected at- 
tack. After this he is for the first time forced to fight a 
pitched battle. The Cheta, a beardless, bright-complexioned 
people, make a stout resistance with their war chariots, but 
are nevertheless conquered. Thereupon the princes and el- 
ders of the adjoining district make submission, and acknowl- 
edge the divine mission, so to speak, of Sethos. " Thou ap- 
pearest," they say, " like thy father, the sun god. Men live 
through the sight of thee." 

In this pictorial history we see the inhabitants of Lebanon 
felling the lofty cedars to build a great ship on the river at 
Thebes, and likewise for the lofty masts set up by King Seti 
at the temple of Anion in the same city. The inscriptions 
boast that " he has set his frontiers at the beginning of the 
world, and at the furthest borders of the riverland ZSTaharain, 
which is encompassed by the Great Sea." On his return 
with spoil unprecedented, Seti is received with festive pomp 
and with the cry, "May thy days endure as those of the sun 
in heaven ! The sun god himself has established thy bor- 
ders." Then follows a list of the conquered countries, Cheta, 
Naharain, Upper Ruten (Canaan), Lower Euten (North 
Syria), Singar (the Shinar of the sacred writings), together 
with Kadesh, Megiddo, and the Schasu Arabians. The spoil 
is presented to the god Amon. " The captives of the lands 
which knew not Egypt" appear as servants and handmaids of 
the god Amon. 

As soon, however, as Seti is dead, or, as the Egyptians ex- 
press it, reunited with the sun, we find the conquered nations 
in open rebellion. Rameses II., Miamun,* the son of Sethos, 
was compelled in his very first campaign to direct the arms of 
Egypt against Canaan and even against the Cheta, around 
whom all the other nations gathered once more. He encoun- 



* In the first volume of Champollion, " Les Monuments de l'Egypte et 
de la Nubie," the publication of which we owe to the munificence of the 
French government under Guizot, are found several representations of 
Rameses (Sesostris). 



16 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

tered them in a battle which has been immortalized as well 
through historic inscriptions as through an heroic poem en- 
graved upon the walls — immortalized, or rather preserved to 
be deciphered in later times. The more historical inscription 
on the temple walls relates that the king incurred great dan- 
ger through the shortcomings of his officers. He had re- 
ceived, we are told, insufficient information about the enemy, 
who had crossed a canal to the south of Kadesh, and found 
himself in consequence unexpectedly face to face with them. 
They surround the Pharaoh with his escort. In this peril 
the king puts on his armor, and, unattended as he is, he rush- 
es into the midst of the hostile bands of Cheta. " I smote 
them down," says the king, " and hurled them into the waters 
of Arantha (Orontes) ; I extinguished the whole host of them ; 
and yet was I alone, for my warriors and my charioteers 
had left me in the lurch. Then did the King of Cheta turn 
his hands to make supplication before me." 

According to the pictorial history in the temples the vari- 
ous divisions of the forces were named after the gods. Pha- 
raoh's tent is in the middle of the camp, and beside it is the 
migratory tabernacle of the chief gods of Egypt. The in- 
scription appended to the pictorial history can scarcely find 
words in which to describe the valor of the king. Still more 
circumstantial is the heroic poem, which we cannot pass over, 
since it throws a new light upon the conditions and ideas of 
the age. According to this poem the King of Cheta had 
taken with him all the nations on his line of march. He had 
possessed himself of all their goods and chattels to give to 
those who accompanied him to the war. His horsemen and 
chariots were numerous as the sand. Each chariot contained 
three men, and the foremost heroes united their strength at a 
single point. A portion of the Egyptian troops is already 
defeated. The king, who thereupon throws himself into the 
fight in another direction, sees himself encompassed by 2500 
two-horse chariots. " Where art thou, my father Anion ?" he 
exclaims in his distress. The god is reminded of all the 
structures raised and offices performed in his honor, and how 
"the king has always walked and stood according to the say- 
ing of his mouth." His prayer finds acceptance. The king 



KAMESES II. 17 

hears the words of the god. " I have hastened hither to thee, 
Barneses Miamun. It is I, thy father, the sim god Ra. Yea, 
I am worth more than a hundred thousand united in one place. 
I am the lord of victory, the friend of valor." 

It is in a mythologic point of view worthy of remark that 
the king with the support of the Egyptian god becomes a 
match for the gods of his opponents; he is as it were a Baal 
in their rear. The enemy exclaims, " Yonder is no man ! 
Woe ! woe ! He who is among us is Sutech. The glorious 
Baal is in all his limbs." The king, however, blames the cow- 
ardice of his army. "I exalt you to be princes day after 
day, I set the son in the inheritance of his father and keep 
all harm far from the land of the Egyptians, and ye desert 
me ! Such servants are worthless. I was alone fighting 
them, and have withstood millions of aliens, I all alone." 

The next day the battle is renewed ; the Egyptian warriors 
rush into the fray "even as the falcon swoops upon the kids." 
Then the King of Cheta makes suit to Pharaoh for peace. 
"Thou art" — thus he addresses him — "Ka Hormachu; thou 
art Sutech the glorious, the son of Nut, Baal in his time. 
Because thou art the son of Amon, out of whose loins thou 
hast sprung, he hath altogether given the nations over unto 
thee. The people of Egypt and the people of Cheta shall be 
brethren, and serve thee together." By the advice of the 
leaders of his army, the charioteers and body-guard, the king 
accedes to this prayer. On his return he is received by the 
god Anion himself with ardent congratulations. "May the 
gods grant thee jubilees every thirty years, infinitely many, 
even for ever and ever upon the throne of thy father Turn, 
and may all lands be under thy feet." 

In the compact then concluded the King of Cheta appears 
no longer, as in the notices of the war itself, as the "miser- 
able," but as the " great king." Not only is friendship con- 
tracted between the kings themselves, but it is said, " The 
sons' sons of the great King of Cheta shall hold together and 
be friends with the sons' sons of Eameses Miamun, the great 
prince of Egypt." The compact is at the same time a cove- 
nant between the gods of both countries. Those of Cheta are 
all named after the several cities, Astarte among them. The 

9, 



18 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

men, as it were, pledge themselves for their gods. "He who 
shall observe these commandments contained in the silver 
table of the covenant, whether he be of the people of the 
Cheta or of the people of the Egyptians, because he hath not 
neglected them, the host of the gods of the land of Cheta and 
the host of the gods of the land of Egypt shall surely give 
him his reward and maintain his life ; for him and for his 
servants, and for them who are with him and his servants." 

If the monuments up to this point have presented to us 
nothing but barren lists of names, it seems indisputable that 
here they set before our eyes a genuine fragment of ancient 
Egyptian history in its connection with Canaan. The narra- 
tive is loaded with eulogistic phraseology and interspersed 
with religious and poetic ideas, but it contains facts. "We 
recognize not only the encroaching spirit of the Egyptian 
power, but also the resistance of the Canaanitish races, among 
which Ivadesh plays an important part. 

Until these inscriptions were deciphered nothing was known 
of the facts which they narrate. On the other hand, antiquity 
has transmitted the legend of a great conqueror, Sesostris by 
name, who made the Egyptian arms formidable in the world 
far and wide. We must, however, give the inscriptions the 
preference over the legend. Probably the latter is to be con- 
nected with the exploits which the Egyptian kings, such as 
Thutmosis and Sethos, really achieved ; but it was a story not 
invented till later times, and in fact not without the conscious 
design of finding a parallel to other universal monarchies. 
As it appears in Herodotus, its purpose is to oppose to the 
Persians an Egyptian king who had excelled their own. Se- 
sostris is said to have conquered the Scythians, an attempt in 
which the Persian conquerors had failed. In the later form 
in which Diodorus, who had himself been in Egypt, received 
the story, it had been so far amplified that even the glory of 
Alexander the Great paled before that of Sesostris, to whom 
was ascribed a conquest of the countries on the banks of the 
Ganges. The old monuments are very far from displaying 
so wide a horizon. Even they are of a boastful character, 
and we might perhaps doubt whether the exploits of the 
Egyptian kings were really attended with marked success, 



BAAL-WOKSHIP. 19 

since they lead in the end to nothing more than a peaceful 
compact with the enemies of the country. But we can scarce- 
ly question that Egypt too had her epoch of successful cam- 
paigns and warlike actions, the influence of which was very 
considerable. The edifices of Luxor, planned on a vast scale, 
and executed with great genius, bear witness to the power of 
Egypt at this epoch. 

Baal, however, and the aggregate of nations which wor- 
shipped him were not completely subdued. The religion of 
Baal, which had spread from the countries near the Euphrates 
over a great portion of Western Asia, was as much impreg- 
nated with elements of culture as the Egyptian faith. The 
principal distinction may possibly have been in the fact that 
the latter, as depending upon the physical conformation of 
the Nile valley, wore a local character, while the Babylonian 
was a religion of universal nature and adapted to commercial 
peoples. But astronomical studies and observations were a 
possession common to both, and the Chaldeans, whose special 
glory it is that they laid the first foundations of astronomy, 
claimed to be a colony of Egyptians. It has been observed 
that the pure atmosphere, enjoyed alike in Babylon and in 
Egypt, renders easy the observation of the heavenly bodies. 
Among other advantages it removes the difficulty which else- 
where results from the pressure of the atmosphere upon the 
water, the regular flow of which is employed in the measure- 
ment of time. To this is to be traced the close resemblance 
between the two nations in many things which regulate the 
intercourse of daily life, especially in weights and measures. 
The duodecimal system in liquid measures, which is found 
elsewhere, appears to be derived from the Babylonians. The 
division of day and night into twelve hours is to be traced, 
according to all appearance, to the same origin. The re- 
ligion of Baal had two central points, one in Tyre, the other 
in Babylon. Baal is the sun, Astarte the moon, and the 
planets combine with these two to form a single system. It 
is indisputable that all this is closely dependent on the obser- 
vation of the heavenly bodies, and contains a principle of a 
cosmoo-onic if not of a theos-onic character. 

The powers of nature are regarded at once as sidereal and 



20 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

terrestrial ; with the sun, moon, and the host of the heavenly 
bodies appears the earth as the mother of all. A distinction, 
however, is made between the creative and destructive powers 
and between the male and female principle, which incessantly 
act and react on each other, and from which all things are de- 
rived. This view of the universe might be regarded as the 
oldest of all, though the first step is immediately accompanied 
by a second, the localization, that is, of these divinities in the 
separate provinces. That the Babylonian mythology has 
many affinities with that of Upper Asia and even India may 
be explained by geographical circumstances. Thus the super- 
stition of the Phoenicians was blended with the religions of 
Africa and Europe, with which their voyages by sea brought 
them into contact. In the whole conception, regarded as a 
view of nature, there is something magnificent and even pro- 
found ; but it is an idea which it is difficult to grasp. Out 
of the separate mythologies the Emperor Julian at a time of 
distinct antagonism between monotheistic and polytheistic 
doctrines wove a system full of meaning and significance. 

With this, however, the popular conceptions have very little 
to do. These religions were at the same time idolatries, and 
such is the form they assume to the outer world. It may no 
doubt be true that Baal was not thought of without reference 
to a Supreme Being presiding over all things. It is possible 
too that the circle of the stars signifies their rotation, which 
itself implies a divine energy. Thus the priests may have 
conceived the matter. But in the worship of the people 
other motives come into prominence. Baal is at the same 
time the god of fire, and, as such, formidable and destructive; 
to escape the violence of this element sacrifices arc offered 
him. Moloch, who appears also under the name Baal, re- 
quires victims in the first stage of their development, creat- 
ures still at the breast, the first-born of human beings included. 
There can be no doubt that in the expression " to pass through 
the fire to Moloch" is implied the religious conception of the 
union of the created being with the godhead, and we are not 
inclined to deny that this notion is associated with the cosmic 
idea of the final conflagration of the universe, which is to be 
the dissolution of all things. Nevertheless this does not alter 



JEHOVAH. 21 

the fact that the worship of Moloch degenerated into a hid- 
eous idolatry, which debased the nations devoted to it, and 
never allowed the idea of man's freedom and mastery over 
his own fate to develop itself. Learned investigations ren- 
der it doubtful whether Astarte, the goddess who is seen 
with her spear in her hand and with the attribute of her star, 
is to be identified with those deities whose rites were cele- 
brated amid sexual excesses: whether the Venus Urania who 
is associated with the cultus of Astarte was an entirely sen- 
sual divinity, an opinion which the balance of evidence sup- 
ports, or in reality quite exempt from such taint. Even in 
Babylon, and still more at Ascalon, the worship of the gods 
was combined with customs revolting to every feeling of 
morality, and deeply degrading to the nature of woman. 
The frenzied and bewildering orgies connected with this con- 
ception of the deity spread from the two centres named above 
and took possession of the world. The most conspicuous ser- 
vice which natural science has rendered is that it has gradual- 
ly dissipated the mist which these forms of nature worship 
were spreading over the world. This result, however, it 
could never have achieved unaided. It is therefore a capital 
error to suppose an opposition between natural science and 
religion. Without a pure religion, responding to the needs 
of the human spirit, and really accepted and believed, the 
scientific knowledge of nature and of man would not have 
been possible at all. The spiritual antithesis to Anion -Ea 
and Baal, as well as to Apis and Moloch, is found in the idea 
expressed in the name Jehovah, as announced by Moses. 

The history of the creation in Genesis is not merely a cos- 
mogonic account of primitive date, but above all else it is an 
express counter- statement opposed to the conceptions of 
Egypt and of Babylon. The latter were formed in regions 
cither naturally fertile or early animated by commercial in- 
tercourse : the Mosaic idea emerges upon the lonely heights 
of Sinai, which no terrestrial vicissitudes have ever touched, 
and where nothing interposes between God and the world. 

With the Egyptians and Babylonians everything is de- 
veloped from the innate powers of the sun, the stars, and the 
earth itself. Jehovah, on the other hand, appears as the 



22 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

Creator of heaven and earth, as both the originator and the 
orderer of the world. It would almost seem as if the assump- 
tion of a chaos, or, as it is given in a more modern version, a 
primeval flood, was not completely excluded ; but this con- 
ception itself rested on the idea of a previous creation. The 
creation of man is the point in which all centres. With the 
Egyptians man is not distinguished in kind from the sun 
from which he issues rather as a product than as a creature, 
and the same is true of the Babylonian cosmogony, where 
the divine element in man is only revealed through the blood 
of a God chancing to fall down to earth. All creatures are 
generically the same with man. In the Mosaic cosmogony, 
on the other hand, the elements, plants, and animals are called 
into being by a supreme intelligent Will, which creates in 
the last place man after His own image. The divergence is 
immeasurable. God appears prominently as a Being inde- 
pendent of the created world ; He appears to the prophet in 
the fire, but yet is not the fire ; He is in the Word which is 
heard out of the fire. Speech is bestowed upon man, who 
gives each created thing its name. In this his pre-eminence 
consists; for he alone, as Locke has remarked, possesses an 
innate faculty of framing an abstract idea of species, whereas 
other creatures can grasp nothing beyond the individual. 
While the descent of some from the sun and others from the 
stars establishes a difference between man and man, creation 
by the breath of God makes all men equal. Under the God- 
head as independent of the created world the dignity thus 
implanted in men appears, it might almost be said, as a prin- 
ciple of equality. 

In a passage which criticism asserts to belong to the oldest 
form of the original account, to man is assigned lordship over 
the fishes of the sea, the fowls of the air, and all beasts which 
move upon the earth. This is a conception distinct from that 
prevalent in Egypt, where the bull is worshipped with divine 
honors as symbolizing the creative power of nature. The 
idea of Jehovah, far from having arisen from nature worship, 
is set up in opposition to it. The Mosaic history of the 
creation is a manifesto against the idolatry which was pre- 
dominant in the world. It is this opposition which gives to 



ABRAHAM. 23 

the national tradition of the Hebrews, beyond doubt an in- 
estimable relic from times of remotest antiquity, its principal 
value. 

The Hebrew memories cling to the ancestor of the race, 
who migrates with his flocks and herds from Northern Meso- 
potamia into Canaan, and forms a connection with the Hit- 
tites, the most important of the inhabitants of Canaan at that 
time, in consequence of which a portion of land is transferred 
to him, by purchase, for a sepulchre. Abraham receives, as 
the progenitor of a group of nations, a widespread reverence 
which has endured for centuries upon centuries. He is not, 
like the Egyptian kings, himself a god, but he is a friend of 
God. In this friendship he lays the foundations of his peo- 
ple. The traditional account has preserved some traits of 
him in which the ideas of the oldest religion in Canaan, be- 
fore it became the national religion, are easily recognized. 

Lot, brother's son to Abraham, ancestor of the tribes of 
Moab and Ammon, and, like Abraham himself, a shepherd- 
prince and tribal chieftain, becomes embroiled in the wars of 
the petty princes in whose district he is settled, and is led 
away captive by the conqueror. The action of Abraham in 
consequence prefigures the later independence of Israel. 
Though dwelling in the dominions of another prince, he takes 
up arms with his family and dependents, and, overthrowing 
the victorious enemy, frees his brother's son and restores him 
to his home. I do not venture to pronounce the whole of 
this story to be historical ; to do so would be to substantiate 
too much that is miraculous and incredible. The essential 
point to note in the legend is the imposing figure which the 
patriarch presents among the native inhabitants of Canaan 
and the new intruders. With this, however, is associated an- 
other trait, which indicates a conception of more than merely 
national range. There is a chief, Melchizedek, whose author- 
ity extends over all these tribes and their princes. He blesses 
Abraham and brings him bread and wine. He is a priest of 
El Eljon, the Most High God, Lord of heaven and earth. 
The religion he professes is identical with that which the 
Israelites have always maintained. Under Abraham it ap- 
pears as a higher religion of universally recognized authority. 



24 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

Abraham gives tithe to the priest king, while the latter 
praises God, who has given Abraham the victory. But, with 
the worshippers of Baal surrounding him on every side, even 
Abraham is tempted to give in his adherence to this system 
of worship, and, as a necessary consequence, to sacrifice his 
son. lie has gone so far as to prepare to conform to this 
usage, when the Most High God prevents by a miracle the 
completion of the sacrifice. The narrative of the victory and 
blessing of Abraham, and of the sacrifice thus frustrated, are 
the most splendid episodes in the five books of Moses, and 
among the most beautiful ever penned. 

The essential truth which they embody is that in the midst 
of the Canaanitish population a powerful tribe arose, which 
clung tenaciously to the idea of the Most High God and re- 
jected every temptation to pay honor to Baal-Moloch. The 
tribe which under Jacob, the son of Isaac and grandson of 
Abraham, grew into a great people, had soon to learn that 
there was no further sojourn for them in Canaan. They 
turned towards the fertile land of Egypt, with which Abra- 
ham had already had relations, and where, so runs the story, 
his son Joseph, sold into Egypt by his brethren, had risen to 
a high station. Instances of similar success are found in the 
Egyptian inscriptions. The whole tribe found a refuge in 
the land of Goshen, where under the Pharaoh it enjoyed 
peace and could pasture its flocks. After a long sojourn, 
however, the duration of which we cannot determine, the 
posterity of Israel and his sons became aware that they could 
not tarry here either without completely forfeiting all they 
could call their own. The tribe was compelled to services 
which, though conformable to the religion and constitution of 
Egypt, were oppressive to all who did not acknowledge its 
authority. 

It was at this time that Moses appeared among the people 
of Israel. Tradition consistently asserts that he was educated 
as an Egyptian in the house of a Pharaoh, and that, being un- 
able any longer to tolerate the acts of violence to which his 
countrymen were exposed, he fell into a dispute on the sub- 
ject with the natives of the country, slew one of them, and 
then took to flight. He was received by the Shepherd-kings 



MOSES. 25 

in the neighborhood of Egypt, whose tribes were related to his 
own, and pastured with them his flocks on Sinai. Eusebius 
says that lie meditated philosophy in the desert, and many 
have felt that wonderful exaltation which man experiences 
when he finds himself in a wild and lonely region face to 
face with God. This exaltation reached its highest flight in 
Moses, when an exile for his people's sake. 

Here the God of his fathers appears to him ; he sees Him 
not, for he shrinks from the vision, but he hears Him, and re- 
ceives the announcement of His name in the sublime words, 
" I am that I am."' The Eternal Being opposes Himself to 
the phantom to whose service the world is devoted. The 
nation receives with joy the announcement of this manifesta- 
tion. As in Canaan the service of Baal had been rejected for 
that of the Most High God, so here in Egypt arose the desire 
to find in the Most High God deliverance from the oppressive 
yoke of the Egyptian religion and of the monarchy of Thebes, 
the visible manifestation of Amon-Ita. The Israelites asked 
from Pharaoh a short leave of absence, in order to worship 
their God in the place consecrated to Him. The permission 
was refused, and their migration began. The hymn of praise 
in which the miracle of the Exodus is extolled treats of the 
incident with great simplicity. " Pharaolrs chariots and his 
host He hath cast into the sea; his chosen captains also are 
drowned in the Red Sea."' 

Thus they reached those primeval heights where Moses 
had first spoken with the God of their fathers. It was his 
purpose to guide the people to that place where he had him- 
self learned to look beyond the horizon of the Egyptian forms 
of worship. The people encamped at the foot of the moun- 
tain, brought thither, as the voice of God says, by Himself 
upon eagles' wings, and the great event approached its com- 
pletion. The God who says of Himself, " The whole earth 
is mine," purposes nevertheless to regard this nation as His 
especial property, and to fashion it into a kingdom of priests. 
The people draw near, adorned and prepared as befits the 
solemnity. From the foot of Sinai, after an ascent of some 
duration, the plateau of Er-Eahah expands to the view, shut 
in by rugged mountains of dark granite, crested by wild, 



26 ANCIENT EGYPT. 

jagged summits of rock towering one above the other — a 
scene of majestic and commanding solitude, to which the 
perpendicular wall of Horeb, from twelve to fifteen hundred 
feet in height, forms a dark and awful barrier.* The people 
are gathered in the valley, a solemn and mysterious region 
shut out from the world by mountains, and here the will of 
God is revealed. 

God speaks and says, " I am the Lord thy God, which have 
brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of 
bondage. Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Thou 
shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness 
of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth 
beneath, or that is in the water under the earth : thou shalt 
not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them." It would 
be impossible to express more sharply the contrast with 
Egypt, where the worship of numerous deities prevailed, each 
of which was nevertheless intended to be an image of divine 
power. In this multiplicity of forms polytheism lost sight 
of the very idea out of which it had been developed, and was 
transformed into idolatry. In opposition to this was revealed 
the absolute idea of the pure Godhead, independent of all 
accident in the mode of its conception. 

The Decalogue is the outcome of this thought. It has 
been held to be a defect that the moral law in the Decalogue 
is regarded as the command of the Legislator. This, how- 
ever, is an essential and necessary feature ; no distinction 
could bo made between religion, moral laws, and civil institu- 
tions. The sabbath, which was substituted for the innumer- 
able festivals of the Egyptian nature worship, is associated 
with the creation as exhibited in the Mosaic cosmogony. 
The fact that even slaves are permitted to rest on the sab- 
bath, implies the conception of a divine polity embracing all 
mankind, and involves a kind of emancipation from personal 
thraldom. These clauses are followed by the simplest civil 

* Robinson's " Palestine," i. 143. In Ebers, " Durch Gosen zum Sinai," 
p. 389 sq., the reader will find that several other hypotheses have been 
formed as to the locality of the giving of the Law. I give the prefer- 
ence to that of the enterprising American, whose sober judgment is un- 
biassed by preconceived opinions. 



THE MOSAIC POLITY. 27 

enactments. A blessing is attached to the commandment to 
honor parents as the fundamental principle of family life. 
Marriage is held especially sacred ; while life and property 
are declared equally inviolable. 

Thus, under the immediate protection of God, individual 
life enjoys those rights and immunities which are the founda- 
tion of all civil order. That which modern states call their 
constitution is but the development of this idea, this need of 
security for life and property. The Mosaic polity involves 
an opposition to kingship and its claim to be an emanation 
from the Deity. The contrast with Egypt is here most deep- 
ly marked. No more noble inauguration of the first principles 
of conduct in human society could have been conceived. 
Egypt receives additional importance from the fact that her 
tyranny developed in the emigrant tribes a character and 
customs in direct contrast to her own. No materials for a 
history of the human race could have been found in the un- 
broken continuity of a national nature worship. The first 
solid foundation for this is laid in the revolt against nature 
worship— in other words, in monotheism. On this principle 
is built a civil society which is alien to every abuse of power. 



Chapter II. 

THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

We have thus three great forms of religious worship ap- 
pearing side by side — the local religion of the Egyptians, the 
universal nature worship of Baal, and the intellectual God- 
head of Jehovah. Like the others, the worship of Jehovah 
required, and in fact possessed, a national basis. But that 
basis was supplied by a nation which had scarcely escaped 
from the bondage of the Egyptians, and which was neglected 
and unrecognized by the rest of the world. Moses had a 
continual struggle to maintain with the obstinacy of the mul- 
titude, who began to regret Egypt after their departure. It 
was his achievement that the nation, so feeble at the time of 
its escape from Egypt, developed after a series of years, long 
indeed, but not too long for such a result, into a genuine 
military power, well inured to arms. Yet the first generation 
had to die out before the Israelites could entertain the hope 
of acquiring a territory of their own. A claim was sug- 
gested by the sojourn of the patriarchs in the land of Canaan 
during which they had obtained possessions of their own. 
Moses himself led them to make the claim. This implies no 
hostility to Egypt. The direction taken was in reality the 
same as that adopted by the Pharaohs, who failed, however, 
to reach the goal. In the endeavor to picture to ourselves 
this struggle we are embarrassed rather than aided by the 
religious coloring of the narrative. The Most High God, the 
Creator of the world, was now considered as the national God 
of the Hebrews, and justly so; for without the Hebrews the 
worship of Jehovah would have had no place in the world. 
The war of the Israelites is represented as the war of Jehovah. 
The tradition is interwoven with miracles. The aged seer 
on the enemy's side is compelled, against his will, to bless 



CANAAN. 29 

Israel, instead of cursing him ; the Israelites cross the Jordan 
dry-shod ; an angel of the Lord appears to the captain of the 
host in the character of a constant though invisible ally; the 
walls of Jericho fall at the blast of trumpets. A disaster 
soon afterwards experienced is traced to the fact that a por- 
tion of the spoil— gold, silver, copper, and iron— destined for 
Jehovah has been kept back and buried by one who has 
broken his oath. The crime is terribly avenged upon the cul- 
prit and his whole house, and thereupon one victory follows 
after another. In the decisive battle with the Amorites, 
Jehovah prolongs the day at the prayer of the captain of 
the host. The conquest is regarded as a victory of Jeho- 
vah himself, whose name would otherwise have once more 
been effaced. 

Besides its religious aspect, the event has another and a 
purely human side, which the historical inquirer, whose busi- 
ness it is to explain events by human motives, is bound to 
bring into prominence. It is especially to be noticed that 
the condition of the land of Canaan as depicted in the Book 
of Joshua corresponds in the main to the statements respect- 
ing it in the Egyptian inscriptions. The country was oc- 
cupied by a number of independent tribes, under princes 
who called themselves kings. The necessity of combined 
resistance to the Egyptian invasion united them for a time; 
but the danger was no sooner over than they relapsed into 
their former independence. They were compelled, however, 
to make a combined effort against Israel, who, though for- 
merly unable to maintain his position among them, now re- 
turned in a later generation to take possession of his old 
abode— much as the HeracleidaB did at a later date in Pelo- 
ponnesus, though, as we shall see, with some essential differ- 
ence. The Israelitish tribes had developed into a brave and 
numerous confederacy of warriors, united and inspired by 
the idea of their God, whom they formerly worshipped in 
Canaan, and who had brought them out of Egypt. Even 
under Moses they were strong enough to seek an encounter 
with one of the most powerful tribes upon its own soil. This 
was the tribe of the Amorites, already mentioned also in con- 
nection with the struggle with Egypt. 



30 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

The immediate occasion for this attack was found by Moses 
in the division between the Amorites and Moabites, the latter 
of whom claimed a nearer tribal relationship to the Hebrews 
than the former. The Amorite domain consisted of the two 
petty kingdoms of Heshbon and Bashan. In the language 
of an ancient lyric poem, k 'fire had gone forth from Heshbon 
and had wasted Moab ;" in other words, Moab had been em- 
broiled in a war with the Amorites, in which he had been 
defeated. In this contest Moses interfered. The King of 
Heshbon, who marched with his whole people to encounter 
him, suffered a defeat. Og, King of Bashan, bestirred him- 
self too late ; he also was conquered. A tradition found in 
Joscphus affirms that the invading forces from the desert 
owed their superiority over their enemies to the use of slings. 
The victory was followed by the sacking of the towns and the 
occupation of the country. Those tribes were treated with 
especial severity which had anciently been in league with 
Israel, such as the Midianites. Moab himself was already 
in dread of Israel. Thus Moses subdued the country beyond 
the Jordan, and formed a plan according to which the region 
which he claimed for the tribes was to be divided among them. 

It was his aim that the idea by the power of which he had 
led them out from Egypt should continue to form the central 
point of their spiritual and political life. Moses is the most 
exalted figure in all primitive history. The thought of God 
as an intellectual Being, independent of all material exist- 
ence, was seized by him and, so to speak, incorporated in the 
nation which he led. Not, of course, that the nation and the 
idea were simply coextensive. The idea of the Most High 
God as He revealed himself on Horeb is one for all times 
and all nations; an idea of a pure and infinite Being, which 
admits of no such limitation, but which nevertheless inspires 
every decree of the legislator, every undertaking of the cap- 
tain of the host. Moses may be called the schoolmaster of 
his people ; he redeems them from slavery, organizes them for 
peace and war, and then leads them out of Egypt under the 
inducement of the promise that they shall obtain possession 
of their ancient inheritance. It is thus that tradition repre- 
sents him. But it was not his privilege to complete the con- 



JOSHUA. 31 

quest of the country which he had designed and commenced. 
He laid his hands upon Joshua the son of Nun, who executed 
the task for which he is thus designated. Amon-Ea had 
abandoned the struggle against Baal, it being impossible that 
a religion under local limitations should bring the world be- 
neath its sway. The situation was completely changed when 
a newly disciplined host, carrying with it the tabernacle as 
the visible token of its covenant with Jehovah, undertook 
the struggle. It was, however, inevitable that at the outset, 
in accordance with the spirit of the ago, everything should 
be effected at the sword's point. The Israelites made war 
much as the Egyptians did, only perhaps with more violence 
and less mercy. 

Let us trace the principal incidents of this great enterprise. 
Joshua crossed the Jordan without opposition, and halted 
near Gilgal, where he renewed the rite of circumcision accord- 
ing to the example of Abraham. The practice was of a nat- 
ure to distinguish the people from the Canaanites ; it was in 
reality an Egyptian rite, for the Jews adopted from the 
Egyptians everything which was compatible with a religion 
in which nature worship had no part. The Jewish army was 
superior in numbers, in military training, and the impulse 
supplied by a great idea. Jericho, the great city towards 
which Moses had turned his dying eyes, fell into the hands of 
Joshua. The other city, Ai. was conquered by means of an 
ambuscade ; while the inhabitants were lighting with and 
pursuing the main army, their city was taken by another force 
in their rear, and they saw the town suddenly bursting into 
flames behind them. In the panic that ensued they were 
vanquished and put to the sword. 

These successes were attended by a double result. The 
Gibeonites, terrified by the annihilation which the conquerors 
inflicted, begged for mercy and an alliance, a prayer granted 
on condition that they should acknowledge Jehovah. The 
rest were inflamed with hatred against the apostates. Sum- 
moned to their assistance, Joshua advanced by night, and 
defeated by a sudden and unexpected attack the main army 
of his antagonists. The princes who led their tribes to the 
war concealed themselves after their defeat in a cave. Here 



32 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

they were discovered. The captains of Israel placed their 
feet, in the literal sense of the words, upon the necks of the 
kino-s: the live kin^s were then handed on five trees. And 
so, says the original account, " Joshua smote all the country 
of the hills, and of the south, and of the vale, and of the 
springs, and all their kings; he left none remaining, but 
utterly destroyed all that breathed, even as the Lord God of 
Israel commanded." The victorious army then resumed its 
position at Gilgal, till a number of other princes and tribes 
took up arms against them and marshalled their forces near 
Lake Merom, through which the upper Jordan flows. Joshua 
marched against them without delay. He succeeded in sur- 
prising and routing them, and so completely annihilated them 
in the pursuit that not one of the host escaped. Their war 
chariots were burned, their horses houghed. The power of 
the Israelites lay in their infantry and their weapons, the spear 
and the sling. All the cities which rose against them were 
captured. The principal city, Hazor, was " burned with lire ;" 
the rest were left standing upon their hills, but in these also 
everything that drew breath was destroyed. A harsh spirit 
of violence and repression broods over the whole narrative. 
Everything has to die to make room for the Israelites. 

According to this account the result is decided by two sud- 
den attacks, one near Gibeon upon the five kings who had 
risen to chastise the Gibeonites, the other near Lake Merom 
upon the inhabitants who combined to expel Israel from the 
country. In military achievements, such as the passage of 
the river, which none ventured to oppose, the erection of a 
camp as a standing menace to the country in all directions, 
the rapid march of Joshua against Gibeon in one direction 
and afterwards against Merom in another, both being attacks 
upon an unprepared enemy, we have a series of strategetie 
exploits which resulted in the conquest of the country. It 
has the character of an occupation, and was accompanied with 
few exceptions by wholesale destruction. The religious spirit 
which inspired the conquerors is indicated by the miracles of 
which the traditional account is full. We see, by combining 
the inscriptions of Rameses-Miamun with the national rela- 
tions discernible from sacred writ, that the Israelites succeeded 



PARTITION OF CANAAN. 33 

in an attempt iii which Rameses suffered shipwreck. The 
confederation of Canaanitish, or, as we ought beyond doubt 
to call them, Amoritish, tribes, before which the Egyptian 
prince gave way, was shattered and annihilated by Joshua. 
A greater importance belongs to the historic Joshua than to 
the fabulous Sesostris. The Israelites, however, cannot be 
regarded as acting designedly in alliance with the Egyptians ; 
for in this interval the Egyptians and the Canaanites had 
come to terms. Moses had severed himself from the Egyp- 
tians. It was his special achievement to force an entrance 
into Canaan, and to seize upon a portion from which the 
whole country could be subdued ; and this is the purport of 
those deep and mysterious words which he is represented as 
having spoken before he died. The partition of the country 
among the Israelites was carried out after the victories of 
Joshua. Although made by lot, it has an oracular character, 
as made before the ark of the covenant at Shiloh. It cannot 
be regarded as a complete occupation. The localities which 
the separate tribes occupy are, so to speak, military positions, 
taken up with the view of carrying out and completing the 
conquest according to the scheme laid down beforehand. 

The march of the tribes w T as at the same time arranged on 
military principles. The tribe of Levi was near the taber- 
nacle, in the centre ; the others were ranged according to 
the points of the compass, Judah towards the east, Reuben 
towards the south, Ephraim towards the west, Dan towards 
the north. On the march the first two preceded, the rest 
followed the tabernacle, all under their banners with the en- 
signs of their tribes. It was a host of families in migration, 
a single caste, all alike warriors ; the tribe set apart for the 
service of the sanctuary had no precedence. 

Upon the occupation of the country the sanctuary re- 
mained established at Shiloh, the site of which is still recog- 
nized by the ruins of its buildings.* The ark of the covenant 
was at first intrusted to the tribe of Ephraim, which extended 

* Now Seilun, separated by small icadys from the neighboring moun- 
tains, and, although commanded by these heights, a defensible position 
to a certain extent (Robinson, iii. 304). 

3 



34: THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

northwards over the mountain-range which bears its name, 
without, however, becoming completely master of the prov- 
ince assigned to it. Gezer, for example, which we find later 
on as a well-regulated kingdom of small extent, remained Ca- 
naanite. Joshua was of the tribe of Ephraim. Sychem seems 
to have been the chief seat of the secular power. It was the 
place purchased by Jacob, where the household gods of Laban 
were buried, and to which the bones of Joseph were brought. 
At a later time it was the centre of the northern kingdom. 
North of Sychem was settled the half-tribe of Manasseh, with 
an admixture, however, of Ephraimites, and enclosing within 
its borders five Canaanitish towns. Benjamin adjoined Eph- 
raim to the south, a territory, the small extent of which 
was, as Josephus tells us, compensated by its great fertility. 
Here was situated Jebus, the Jerusalem of a later date, which 
the Benjamites in vain attempted to conquer. Next in power 
to Ephraim comes the tribe of Judah, whose portion was upon 
the southern mountain-range, the abode of the most warlike 
of the hostile nations, where the struggle continued later than 
elsewhere. Judah could only occupy the hill country, not 
the plains, the inhabitants of which used chariots of iron. 
Simeon and Dan were under the protection of Judah. An 
especially bold and enterprising character is ascribed to the 
tribe of Dan. But, like Judah, it could only obtain possession 
of the hill country, beyond which, for a considerable period, 
it did not venture. To the north of Ephraim were settled 
the tribes of Issachar and Naphtali, with Zebulon and Asher 
extending along the western bank of the Jordan. But of 
Naphtali it is said, " He dwelt among the Canaanit.es." Zebu- 
lon had two Canaanitish towns within its territories. The 
province of Asher was a narrow strip on the coast of the 
Phoenician Sea ; the task of conquering Sidon, which properly 
fell to it, it could never dream of attempting, and six towns 
remained unconquered within its province, llenben, Gad, 
and the half-tribe of Manasseh dwelt east of the Jordan in a 
region of forests and pasture lands. 

The appearance of the Israelites upon the scene of history 
has been compared with that of the Arabs under Mohammed, 
and the identity of religious and national feeling in both cases 



THE ISRAELITES. 35 

establishes a certain analogy between them. But the distinc- 
tion is this : that the Arabs being in contact with great king- 
doms, and themselves far more powerful than the Israelites, 
were able to meditate the conquest of the world. The Israel- 
ites at first only sought a dwelling-place, for which they had 
to struggle with kingdoms of small area but considerable 
vitality. Their position may rather be compared with the 
conquistas of the Spaniards on the Pyrenean peninsula, iso- 
lated districts destined to form the basis of a future conquest. 

The Israelites occupied the mountain regions, as the Amor- 
ites had done before them ; but, like the Amorites, they en- 
countered a vigorous and energetic resistance. First of all, 
the kindred populations of the Ammonites and Moabites, 
who thought themselves encroached on by the Israelites, rose 
against them ; then the Midianites, themselves also inhabitants 
of the desert, invaded, though already once conquered by 
Israel, the districts occupied by the latter. A powerful prince 
made his appearance from Mesopotamia, and ruled a great 
part of these districts and populations for some time. On 
the sea-coast we find the Philistines settled in five cities, each 
of which obeys its own king, but which formed together one 
community with a peculiar religious character. Against these 
assaults, which are, however, nothing but the reaction against 
their earlier campaigns, the Israelites had to maintain them- 
selves. The worship of Baal, with which the Egyptians had 
already contended, maintained its ground with a vigor which 
the struggle itself intensified and perpetuated, and was often, 
as the Book of Judges complains, a dangerous rival to the 
God whose name Israel professed. Against it the warlike 
tribes found their best weapon in adhesion to the god of their 
fathers. The leaders who kept them firm in this resolve ap- 
pear under the name slwphetim,, a term explained to mean 
"champions of national right." In the book dedicated to 
their exploits, the Book of Judges, some of the most distin- 
guished among them are portrayed with some natural admix- 
ture of myth, but with clearly marked lineaments. 

We read of whole decades of peace, then of disturbance 
raised by foreign powers. At one time princes whose domin- 
ions are of large extent attempt to impose an oppressive 



36 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

bondage; at another, neighboring races with ancient ties of 
affinity push far into the heart of the country and once more 
occupy the City of Palms, the ancient Jericho. At times, also, 
the native inhabitants, once vanquished, renew their league. 
Then great men, or sometimes women, come forward to decide 
the issue by force or stratagem. The traditional account, al- 
ways perfectly honest, never refuses its grateful praise to de- 
liverances effected by actions which would otherwise excite 
abhorrence. Sometimes we have men who execute deeds 
such as that perpetrated many centuries afterwards by Cle- 
ment upon Henry III., or women who avail themselves of 
the exhaustion of a hostile general to put him to a horrible 
death by piercing his temples. We recognize an imperilled 
nationalit} r , ready to employ any means, whatever their char- 
acter, to save its existence and its religion. 

The struggle without runs parallel with an internal strife, 
decided in the same violent spirit. A hideous crime com- 
mitted in the tribe of Benjamin is chastised by the ruin of 
that tribe. The whole nation rises. While race is thus pit- 
ted against race, and conflicting religious ideas wrestle for 
predominance, some notably colossal forms become conspicu- 
ous. The first of these is Deborah, who was judging the 
people under the palm-tree of Deborah on Mount Ephraim 
when a new king arose in Hazor, the district conquered by 
Joshua, near Lake Merom. Jehovah delivered up His people 
to this prince for their chastisement. " The inhabitants of 
the villages ceased, they ceased in Israel, until that I, Debo- 
rah, arose, that I arose a mother in Israel." At her sum- 
mons an army of all the northern tribes gathered together 
on Mount Tabor ; she herself was present, and celebrated in 
a noble song the victory which the Israelites achieved over 
the heavy-armed forces and war-chariots of the enemy. The 
song begins with the words, " Praise ye the Lord for the 
avenging of Israel when the people willingly offered them- 
selves." It is a grand mystic ode, an historical relic of the 
first rank. 

Another no less notable character is Gideon, of the tribe 
of Manasseh. The Midianites and other children of the east 
had overflowed the country and destroyed the crops. Israel 



THE JUDGES. 37 

was compelled to take refuge in the mountain glens, and in 
his turn to protect himself behind walls and ramparts. The 
summons comes to Gideon while threshing his wheat in the 
wine-press under the terebinth of his father. He overthrows 
the altar of Baal, at which the people in the neighborhood 
have already begun to worship, and kindles in its place a 
burnt-offering to Jehovah. At the sound of his trumpets 
Manasseh gathers round him. Of the whole number, how- 
ever, he retains only three hundred, sifted from the rest by 
a certain act of self-restraint. Their onset with the sound of 
trumpets and the flashing of torches throws the enemy into 
confusion and causes his rout. Upon this the northern tribes 
gather themselves, particularly the Ephraimites, who are dis- 
pleased that they were not summoned sooner; they seize all 
the fords of the river, once more smite the Midianites at the 
rock Oreb, and slay their leaders, Oreb and Zeeb. Gideon 
crosses the Jordan, and takes prisoner the last of the Midi- 
anitish princes ; he extirpates the worship of Baal on all 
sides, and earns the name of " Jerub-baal." After he has 
rescued his countrymen from their most pernicious enemy, 
they offer him dominion over Israel, for himself and his pos- 
terity. Gideon answers, " I will not rule over you ; neither 
shall my son rule over you : Jehovah shall rule over you." 
Deborah and Gideon are the two grandest figures in the 
book. They belong to the tribes which trace their origin to 
Joseph and his Egyptian wife. 

An extraordinary character appears in Samson, who belongs 
to the small but warlike tribe of Dan. Even before his birth 
he is dedicated to the service of Jehovah by heaven-sent 
tokens. His strength is irresistible as soon as the Spirit of 
God comes upon him. He wars against the Philistines, who 
have already obtained an advantage, and even dominion, over 
Israel. He succumbs, however, to their cunning. The name 
of the woman who enchains him, Delilah, signifies traitress. 
In his death all his energy and feeling are concentrated. 
His enemies have put out his eyes. " Let me die with these 
Philistines," he exclaims, and pulls down the pillars which 
support the house in which they are gathered together, bury- 
ing himself under the ruins. The action is, like many others 



38 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

in this narrative, at once grandiose and bizarre. In sub- 
stance it may be called the self-devotion of a strength conse- 
crated to God. 

Yet the situation was strangely reversed. The conquerors 
were compelled to be on the defensive ; the Philistines, 
strengthened by the native tribes who, on being expelled by 
the Israelites, had taken refuge with them, achieved once 
more a victory. The ark of the covenant itself fell into their 
hands. At the news of this the high-priest Eli, then aged 
ninety-eight years, fell from his chair and died. It would 
seem that Shiloh itself was laid waste. Though the ark of 
the covenant, an unblessed possession to those who laid violent 
hands upon it, was restored to the Israelites by the Philis- 
tines, and again set up on the hill near Gibeon, yet the con- 
querors maintained their hold of the subjugated districts. The 
gods of the Philistines, Baal and Astarte, whom they led with 
them to the field, seemed to have won the victory over Je- 
hovah. The ark was at one time kept as it were prisoner in 
the temple of the fish-god, Dagon, but at length it was given 
back. Now, if ever, was the time for the national and relig- 
ious spirit in Israel to rouse itself. But no one appeared 
again in the character at once of judge and warrior, to pro- 
tect the people by force of arms. It was the Levite Samuel, 
a prophet dedicated to God even before his birth, who re- 
called them to the consciousness of religious feeling. lie 
succeeded in removing the emblems of Baal and Astarte from 
the heights, and in paving the way for renewed faith in Je- 
hovah. The struggle which now began was preceded by 
fasts and religious services. The Israelites succeeded so far 
as to be able to raise a trophy at Mizpeh ;* thence the 
prophet removed to Gilgal, the base of operations in time 
past during the campaigns of conquest. 

* How much importance was attached to this event is clear from the 
representation of Josephus, who here exaggerates the miraculous element 
which he elsewhere strives to minimize. According to him ("Antiquit." 
vi. 2, 2), Jehovah encounters the enemy with an earthquake, so that he 
does not know where to set his foot, and then with thunder and light- 
ning, which complete his confusion. It is impossible that this enhance- 
ment of the miraculous clement can come from Josephus himself. 



THE MONARCHY. 39 

This measure of success was not, however, enough for the 
people ; a great part of their territory was still in the hands of 
the enemy, and this they could not hope to recover under the 
leadership of the prophet. It was the feeling of the people 
that they could only carry on the war upon the system em- 
ployed by all their neighbors. They demanded a king — a 
request very intelligible under existing circumstances, but 
one which nevertheless involved a wide and significant de- 
parture from the impulses which had hitherto moved the 
Jewish community and the forms in which it had shaped it- 
self. It had been proclaimed on Horeb that Jehovah had 
chosen Israel to himself as His own possession, and the last 
of the victorious heroes had declined the kingdom offered to 
him, on the ground that Jehovah should be King over His 
people. The neighboring kings were for the most part tribal 
chieftains, who boasted a divine origin — an idea which could, 
find no place in Israel. In particular it was difficult to de- 
termine the relations between the prophet, through whom 
the Divine Will was especially revealed, and the king, to 
whom an independent authority over all, without exception, 
must of necessity be conceded. This question is one of the 
highest importance as affecting all embodiments of monarch- 
ical power in later times. The spontaneous action of a free 
community and the will of God as proclaimed by the prophet 
were now to be associated with a third and independent fac- 
tor, a royal power which could claim no hereditary title. 
The Israelites demanded a king, not only to go before them 
and fight their battles, but also to judge them. They no 
longer looked for their preservation to the occasional efforts 
of the prophetic order and the ephemeral existence of heroic 
leaders. On the other hand, it was doubtful what preroga- 
tives should be assigned to a king. The argument by which 
Samuel, as the narrative records, seeks to deter the people 
from their purpose, is that the king will encroach upon the 
freedom of private life which they have hitherto enjoyed, 
employing their sons and daughters in his service, whether 
in the palace or in war, exacting tithes, taking the best part 
of the land for himself, and regarding all as his bondsmen. 
In this freedom of tribal and family life lay the essence of 



40 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

the Mosaic constitution. But the danger that all may be lost 
is so pressing that the people insist upon their own will in 
opposition to the prophet. Nevertheless, without the prophet 
nothing can be done, and it is he who selects from the youth 
of the country the man who is to enjoy the new dignity in 
Israel. He finds himself alone with him one day, having 
ordered the rest to retire, that he might declare to him the 
word of God, and pours the vial of oil upon his head with 
the words, "Behold, Jehovah hath anointed thee to be cap- 
tain over His inheritance." The language is remarkable, as 
implying that the property of Jehovah in His people is re- 
served to Him. It was not the conception of the monarchy 
prevalent among the neighboring Canaanitish tribes which 
here found expression ; for the essential character of the old 
constitution of Israel w r as at the same time preserved. The 
ceremony of anointing was perhaps adopted from Egypt. On 
the Egyptian monuments, at any rate, gods are to be seen 
anointing their king. The monarchy springs not merely from 
conditions which are part of the actual and present experi- 
ence of the nation, but is at the same time a gift from God. 

At first the proceeding had but a doubtful result. Many 
despised a young man sprung from the smallest family of 
the smallest tribe of Israel, as one who could give them no 
real assistance. In order to make effective the conception of 
the kingly office thus assigned to him, it was necessary in 
the first place that he should gain for himself a personal 
reputation. A king of the Ammonites, a tribe in affinity to 
Israel, laid siege to Jabesh in Gilead, and burdened the prof- 
fered surrender of the place with the condition that he should 
put out the right eyes of the inhabitants. It was clear that, 
if no one rescued them, they would have to submit even to 
this hideous condition. Such an event would be an insult to 
all Israel. Saul, the son of Kish,a Benjamite, designated by 
the prophet as king, but not as yet recognized as such, was 
engaged, as Gideon before him, in his rustic labors, when he 
learned the situation through the lamentations of the people. 

The narrative abounds with symbolic actions, each expres- 
sive of some great underlying truth. Seized with the idea of 
his mission, Saul cuts in pieces a yoke of oxen, and sends the 



PROPHET AND KING. 41 

portions to the twelve tribes with the threat, " Whosoever 
cometh not forth after Saul and after Samuel, so shall it be 
done unto his oxen." We see from this that the imminent 
danger is not in itself a sufficient incentive, but requires to 
be supported by the menace of punishment at the hand of 
the new ruler to those who hang back. Thus urged, how- 
ever, Israel combines like one man ; Jabesli is rescued and 
Saul acknowledged as king. This recognition takes place be- 
fore Jehovah in the old camp at Gilgal, where soon after a 
victory is achieved over the Philistines. Their camp at 
Michmash, at the exit of a rocky pass leading down into the 
Jordan valley in the direction of Gilgal, is taken by the son 
of Saul, the Israelites who are found in it passing over to 
his side. With the recognition of the king, however, and 
the progress of his good-fortune, a new and disturbing ele- 
ment appears. A contest breaks out between him and the 
prophet, in which we recognize not so much opposition as 
jealousy between the two powers. 

The earlier judges had been prophets as well, and had 
themselves offered the sacrifices. Now, however, a prophet 
and a military leader of regal authority are associated togeth- 
er. In the presence of a fresh danger, in which the battle is 
to be preceded by the sacrifice, the king, as the prophet delays 
to appear, presumes himself to minister at the altar. This 
the prophet declares to be a great transgression, and at once 
announces that another has been found to occupy the place of 
Saul. But it requires a second incident to fan the quarrel to 
a flame. Saul has conquered Moab, Amnion, Edom, and the 
Philistines ; the devastations cease ; he possesses the hearts of 
the people, but cannot reconcile himself with the prophet. 
In the war against Amalek, the prophet, in the old spirit of 
stern and uncompromising hostility to the neighboring races, 
has cursed everything, men, women, children, infants at the 
breast, oxen and sheep, camels and asses. The Amalekites, 
although descended from Esau, and therefore no less than the 
Ammonites of kindred race with Israel, had opposed the lat- 
ter on their approach from Egypt under the guidance of Je- 
hovah. The war is carried on with the memory of this op- 
position still fresh in the minds of the Israelites, and the 



42 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

enemy is now to be punished by complete annihilation. 
Saul obtains the victory, and obeys, but not without some 
reservation, the cruel injunction of the prophet. He spares 
the hostile king, and, being reluctant to destroy the good 
and useful part of the plunder which has been obtained, takes 
it with him on his homeward march. " What meaneth," says 
Samuel, " this bleating of the sheep in mine ears, and the 
lowing: of the oxen which I hear ? Because thou hast re- 
jected the word of the Lord he hath also rejected thee from 
being king." He hews the captive king in pieces with his 
own hand before the sanctuary in Gilgal. From that day he 
sees Saul no more. 

If we endeavor to realize the exact motive of this quarrel, 
it would appear to be this : that whilst the king and com- 
mander asserted his distinctive right to strike a blow at the 
proper moment, and not to destroy but to dispose of the 
booty, the prophet, holding firmly by the traditional prac- 
tice, set himself against the new right so claimed with all the 
ferocity of the old times. On the one side was the indepen- 
dent power of monarchy, which looks to the requirements of 
the moment, on the other the prophet's tenacious and unre- 
served adherence to tradition. Another ground of quarrel 
is to be found in the natural desire of the king to leave the 
throne as a heritage to his posterity, while the prophet claimed 
to dispose of the succession as it might seem best to him. 
The relations between the tribes have also some bearing on 
the question. Hitherto Ephraim had led the van, and jeal- 
ously insisted on its prerogative. Saul was of Benjamin, a 
tribe nearly related to Ephraim by descent. He had made 
the men of his own tribe captains, and had given them vine- 
yards. On the other hand, the prophet chose Saul's successor 
from the tribe of Judah. This successor was David, the son 
of Jesse, one already distinguished as victor in a single com- 
bat with the giant whom no one else ventured to encounter, 
but whom, in spite of his panoply, he overthrew with his 
sling. He had obtained access to the house of the king, 
whose melancholy he succeeded in charming by the music of 
his harp, and had won the friendship of his son and the love 
of his daughter. A peculiar complication results from the 



DAVID. 43 

fact that Jonathan, the son of Saul, to whom the crown would 
have passed in the natural course of things, protected Ills 
friend David from the acts of violence to which his father, who 
could not endure David's presence any longer, gave way in 
the interest of this very son. In the opposition which now 
begins we have on the one side the prophet and his anointed, 
who aim at maintaining the religious authority in all its as- 
pects, on the other the champion and deliverer of the nation, 
who, abandoned by the faithful, turns for aid to the powers 
of darkness and seeks knowledge of the future through witch- 
craft. Saul is the first tragic personage in the history of the 
world. 

David took refuge with the Philistines. Among them he 
lived as an independent military chieftain, and was joined not 
only by opponents of the king, but by others, ready for any 
service, or, in the language of the original, " men armed with 
bows, who could use both the right hand and the left in hurl- 
ing stones and shooting arrows out of a bow." The Philis- 
tines were for the most part better armed than the Israelites ; 
the latter had first to learn to use the sword, and the troop of 
freebooters was the school of the hero David. In the difficult 
situation resulting from the fact that the Philistines were 
protecting him whilst his own king was against him, David 
displayed no less prudence and circumspection than enterpris- 
ing boldness. In any serious war against the Israelites, such 
as actually broke out, the Sarim of the Philistines would not 
have tolerated him amongst them. David preferred to engage 
in a second attack upon the Amalekites, the common enemy 
of Philistines and Jews. At this juncture Israel was defeated 
by the Philistines. The king's sons were slain ; Saul, in dan- 
ger of falling into the enemy's hands, slew himself. Mean- 
while David with his freebooters had defeated the Amale- 
kites, and torn from their grasp the spoil they had accumulated, 
which was now distributed in Judah. Soon after, the death 
of Saul is announced. David, however, had not for a mo- 
ment forgotten that Saul, through the anointing hand of the 
prophet, had acquired an inviolable dignity, one in his eyes 
of the highest sanctity. The Amalekite who informed him 
of the death of Saul was put to death by his order for having 



44 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

laid his hand upon the Lord's anointed ; for the messenger 
had asserted that, at the fallen king's entreaty, he had given 
him the death-blow.* In David's son^ of lamentation, again, 
plaint is made to Jehovah because disgrace had fallen upon 
Saul, "as though he had not been anointed with oil." For it 
was only the succession of his son which the prophet had op- 
posed ; the sovereignty which he possessed had remained un- 
assailcd. The song of David is incomparable ; it contains 
nothing but praise and appreciation of his enemy, and once 
more his friendship with Jonathan is conspicuous in it. 

David, conscious of being the rightful successor of Saul — 
for on him too, long ere this, the unction had been bestowed 
— betook himself to Hebron, the seat of the ancient Canaan- 
itisli kings, which had subsequently been given up to the 
priests and made one of the cities of refuge. It was in the 
province of Judah ; and there, the tribe of Judah assisting at 
the ceremony, David was once more anointed. This tribe 
alone, however, acknowledged him ; the others, especially Eph- 
raim and Benjamin, attached themselves to Ishboshcth, the 
surviving son of Saul. And here lay the essential question. 
Saul had been acknowledged as king not only because of his 
anointing, but in consequence of that deliverance of the 
country which he had effected. The conflict which the com- 
plex idea of the monarchy involved was again renewed. The 
majority of the tribes insisted, even after the death of Saul, 
on the right of lineal succession. The first passage of arms 
between the two hosts took place between twelve of the tribe 
of Benjamin and twelve of David's men-at-arms. It led, 
however, to no result; it was a mutual slaughter, so complete 
as to leave no survivor. 



* As is well known, there is at this point, between the accounts in the 
last chapter of the first and the first chapter of the second Book of Sam- 
uel, a certain discrepancy, which a later tradition, which appears in Jose- 
phus, has attempted to explain by a somewhat arbitrary expedient. It 
seems to me, however, that the narrative in the second book is to be re- 
garded not as a confession, but as a pretended claim on the part of the 
Amalekite; and to this the words of David point: "Thy blood be on 
thine own head, for thine own mouth hath witnessed against thee" (2 
Sam. i. 1C). 



DAVID. 45 

But in the more serious struggle which succeeded this the 
troops of David, trained as they were in warlike undertakings 
of great daring as well as variety, won the victory over Ish- 
bosheth ; and as the unanointed king could not rely upon the 
complete obedience of his commander-in-chief, who consid- 
ered himself as important as his master, David, step by step, 
won the upper hand. He had the magnanimity not to exult 
over the ruin of his enemies, though it prepared his own way 
to the throne. The elders of the tribes came to Hebron. In 
accordance with the old prophetic direction, which they now 
obeyed, the anointing of David as king over all Israel took 
place. He had neither forced the tribes to do this nor con- 
quered their territory; they came in to him of their own ac- 
cord. Yet the supremacy of the king was not unlimited. It 
is said " the elders made a covenant with him." Their prin- 
cipal motive was that, even whilst his predecessor was still 
reigning, David had done most for his people, and thus God 
had designated him as captain over Israel. 

The Benjamites had been the heart and soul of the oppo- 
sition which David experienced. Nevertheless, the first action 
which he undertook as acknowledged king of all the tribes 
redounded specially to their advantage, whilst it was at the 
same time a task of the utmost importance for the whole Is- 
raelitish commonwealth. Although Joshua had conquered 
the Amorites, one of their strongholds, Jebus, still remained 
unsubdued, and the Benjamites had exerted all their strength 
against it in vain. It was to this point that David next di- 
rected his victorious arms. Having conquered the place, he 
transferred the seat of his kingdom thither without delay. 
This seat is Jerusalem ; the word Zion has the same meaning 
as Jebus. This must be considered as one of the most impor- 
tant of David's achievements. It made him master of Benja- 
min, and was a considerable advance upon the possession in 
Judah of Hebron alone, whilst at the same time the fortress 
which he had occupied might become a centre of union for 
the whole people. 

AVe understand how powerful the Philistines were in the 
neighborhood of the capital when we find it recorded that a 
position which controlled it was still in their hands. While 



46 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

king of Judab, David had continued his alliance with them; 
as king of Israel he became their enemy. They marched of 
their own accord against him, and encamped in the high pla- 
teau of Rephaim over against Mori ah. David twice fiercely 
assaulted them. The rustling in the tops of the balsam-trees 
he regarded as a token of the personal presence of Jehovah. 
Thereupon he attacked his powerful enemy again, and drove 
him back into his own frontiers as far as Gaza. The Philis- 
tine idols fell into his hands. It was the warriors trained in 
his earlier struggles and expeditions who obtained for him 
the victory. Thus supported, his kingdom was firm, and in 
Zion, the city of David, as it is called, he was now able to 
build himself a splendid palace of the cedars of Lebanon. 
Thither, too, he brought the sanctuary of the law, the ark of 
the covenant. Of any part taken by the priesthood in direct- 
ing this transference of the sanctuary the oldest account 
knows nothing. David himself offered the sacrifice, and there 
was no Samuel at hand to interfere with him. He had this 
immeasurable advantage over Saul, that king and prophet 
were united in his person. This twofold character is reflected 
in such of the psalms as can, with some probability, be referred 
to him. There also we can study the soul of a prince engaged 
in a struggle which every moment threatens him with destruc- 
tion. "Before me stand all His judgments: I removed not 
His commandments from me. Through Thee I have discom- 
fited hosts of men. Who is God save Jehovah, who hath 
girded my hands to war?" 

Having made himself supreme within the Israelitish camp, 
David now directed his arms against his still implacable 
neighbors. Again and again he encountered the Philistines; 
nor could they make direct complaint of this, for, even whilst 
he was under their protection, they were well aware that he 
was the foreordained successor of the king with whom they 
were at war. The Philistines had hitherto been superior to 
the Israelites through their better equipment ; but the heroes 
of David were especially famous for the dexterity and success 
with which they made use of their weapons. We may men- 
tion cases in which their prowess is exaggerated, when this 
exaggeration is characteristic. One of the heroes of David is 



WARS OF DAVID. 47 

famed for having brandished his spear over eight hundred of 
his slaughtered foes ; another for having wielded his sword so 
long that his hand became rigid and clutched it still involun- 
tarily ; a third for the bravery with which, when the battle 
seemed lost, he held his ground till he had struck down hun- 
dreds of the enemy with his spear. The Egyptians also ap- 
pear as their antagonists, but were conquered in a primitive 
manner in a hand-to-hand encounter, such as those which 
the Egyptian inscriptions occasionally mention. A powerful 
Egyptian warrior advances with his spear against his Israel- 
itish antagonist, who rushes to encounter him armed only 
with a staff, tears his javelin from his grasp and slays him 
with it. These men had also to contend with the wild beasts 
of the desert, and David's heroes, like himself, tested their 
strength in combat with lions. Thus grew up a courageous 
race, inured to war. 

This race, as soon as it had no longer anything further to 
fear from the Philistines, threw itself into the struggle with 
its other hostile neighbors, retaining throughout the convic- 
tion that its wars were the wars of Jehovah. We recognize 
the disposition of David when we read that he declined to 
refresh himself with a draught of water, which his mighty 
men had fetched him at great personal risk from a well, but 
poured it out unto Jehovah, as not desiring that his brave 
followers should shed their blood for him ; but it was no less 
clearly seen when, after vanquishing Moab and Araraon, both 
nations addicted to fire-worship, he showed no trace of mercy 
towards them. Two thirds of the Moabites were put to 
death, whilst the vanquished warriors of Amnion were thrown 
down like corn upon the threshing-floor and slaughtered, and 
their remains consumed with fire. Meanwhile David trium- 
phantly placed the golden and jewelled crown of Amnion 
upon his own head. He was not disposed to incur the guilt 
of compassion, in showing which Saul had disobeyed the 
prophet and brought on his own ruin. Perhaps the most 
marked distinction between Saul and David is, that whilst 
Saul endeavored to sever himself from the strict rules of the 
Israelitish religion, David clung tenaciously to the violent 
methods which had distinguished the first conquest. Thus 



4S THE TWELVE TKIBES OF ISRAEL. 

in Edom, again, lie caused every living thing of the male sex 
to be destroyed : only one scion of the royal house of Esau 
escaped and took refuge in Egypt. 

It is obvious that these changes involved a complete revo- 
lution in the land of Canaan. In the place of that confeder- 
ation of tribes, no longer able to protect its sanctuary, discon- 
nected and intermingled with hostile elements, a powerful 
kingdom had arisen, which ejected everything foreign, and, 
having obtained by a sudden stroke a commanding site for 
the religion of Jehovah, proceeded at once to subjugate the 
kindred nations. These, however, were connected with other 
neighbors who could not look on quietly and see them de- 
stroyed, and the flames of war. once kindled, spread far and 
wide. 

A position of high importance had been occupied from the 
earliest times by Damascus, an oasis which the skill of its in- 
habitants had converted into a kind of paradise. It was a 
central point for the caravan traffic of Western Asia, where 
the great commercial route, which led thither from Babylon, 
branched into two arms, oue of which went to Egypt, the 
other to Phoenicia. Phoenicia was at that time at the height 
of her commercial prosperity, and extended her traffic to the 
remotest west, whilst she kept up relations with the farthest 
east by means of the caravans of Babylon. It may be said 
that in Damascus East and AVest met together; it was one of 
the richest seats of commerce in the ancient world. At this 
epoch it was governed by a Syro-Aramaic prince, with whom 
David came into collision. It was not so much a religious 
interest as one partly military, partly commercial, that drew 
him in this direction. If the twelve tribes and their king 
could obtain possession of Damascus they would gain a com- 
manding position in "Western Asia. They saw a new world 
expanding to their view, very different from that (4 Canaan. 
David's attack upon Damascus may be regarded as an under- 
taking decisive for the power of Israel. At first it was per- 
fectly successful. The king conquered Damascus. Copper, 
which may have come from Cyprus, gold, perhaps brought 
from India, were the booty of the conqueror. He used them 
to beautify the worship of Jehovah, which he had established 



GOVERNMENT. 49 

in the neighborhood of his citadel. David everywhere placed 
garrisons in the towns, and, being master of Syria as well as 
of Palestine, was now exceedingly formidable. At a muster 
of all the tribes from Dan to Beersheba it was found that the 
number of valiant men who drew the sword amounted to one 
million three hundred thousand. It is clear that David could 
at any juncture bring a considerable force into the field. The 
Phoenicians, masters of the trade of the world, sought his 
friendship. From other neighbors, as, indeed, was inevitable, 
he experienced much hostility. Nevertheless, it was within 
his own kingdom of the twelve tribes that real opposition to 
him first arose. 

Never was a nation worse adapted than the Jewish nation 
to create an empire by conquest. Tribal feeling was the heart 
and soul of their constitution. Jehovah suffered no other 
gods besides himself; it was not easy to govern in His name 
nations who worshipped other gods. A strong monarchy was 
utterly repugnant to the habits of the tribes. Accustomed to 
a peaceful rule — for the supremacy of the judges ceased to 
exist as soon as victory was achieved — they found that change 
of constitution which was involved in the permanent author- 
ity of a king an extremely oppressive one. The}' had not 
asked for a king that they might subjugate foreign nations, 
but only that they might the better defend themselves, and, 
this secured, all they wanted was a righteous judge to whom 
to refer their own disputes. Xow, however, they found a 
kind of military government established. The Gibborim con- 
stituted a class of warlike and powerful magnates, with the 
advantage of a distinct organization, as captains over bodies 
of twenty or two hundred under the absolute control of a 
commander-in-chief. There was also a body-guard whose ap- 
pellations of executioners and runners indicate that it was 
their duty to see the king's commands carried out. The 
king's decisions excited various complaints, for which those 
about his person were held responsible. It is quite intelligi- 
ble that the tribes who did not come over to David's side 
until some time after the death of Saul, and who had never 
forgotten their own king, should have been stirred by such 
causes into a ferment of discontent. Put the tribe of Judah 

4 



50 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

also, upon whose support David's power rested, was displeased, 
so much so that Absalom, the most influential of the king's 

sons, could entertain the design of raising himself to the royal 
power even in his father's lifetime. He did not scruple to 
promise the malcontents better days, if he should attain to the 
sovereignty, and at length gathered them around him at He- 
bron, acting in concert with one of the most influential of his 
father's advisers. David suddenly perceived that his subjects 
were deserting him, and that the ruin of his capital and his 
whole house was imminent. He formed the resolution of re- 
tiring from the capital with his men of war. Absalom occu- 
pied the city, and, yielding to evil guidance, set foot within 
his father's harem, intending by this act an assumption of 
the royal dignity ; on the other hand, he let the opportunity 
slip of pursuing his father with the superior forces he had 
gathered round him. David, in consequence, found time, 
after passing the Jordan, to put himself in a position of de- 
fence, though not without the support of the adjacent dis- 
tricts, which he had himself once subjugated. Thus the great 
captain and conqueror found himself opposed to his own sub- 
jects, whom lie had himself settled in their possessions, with 
his own son at their head. "We touch upon this incident 
principally because it had extensive results in the succeeding 
epoch. 

No -sooner did the insurgent troops appear in the field than 
they were completely routed by the veteran soldiers of the 
king, whose superiority in discipline more than counter-bal- 
anced their inferior numbers. The latter are said to have 
amounted to about four thousand men, and Joab, David's 
geneval. was at their head. David absented himself from 
the battle, in compliance with the wishes of his own army, 
who thought that a mishap to the king would carry with it 
their own destruction. They valued him highly, and wished 
to spare him ; his son, however, found no mercy with them. 
To the deep grief of his father, Absalom was slain by Joab. 
The result, however, did but. lead to new perplexities. By 
this victory David became once more king of the combined 
kingdom. It was his own wish to connect himself princi- 
pally with Judah. whose elders, again won over to his cause. 



ADONIJAH. 51 

came to meet him and conducted him back to Jerusalem. 
He might count also on the support of Benjamin. The re- 
maining ten tribes, however, murmured at this preference : 
they too could claim a share in the monarchy. This move- 
ment also was repressed by Joab, and the most prominent 
leader of the insurgents was murdered in the town in which 
he had taken refuge. The inhabitants were not prepared to 
give up their city to devastation on his account, and threw 
his head over the battlements at Joab's feet. Further, the 
old quarrel with the house of David's predecessor was dis- 
posed of by a combination of violence and clemencv. All 
those who were responsible for the breach of the old cove- 
nants with the Gibeonites were delivered up to them ; the im- 
mediate posterity of Jonathan, however, still enjoyed protec- 
tion, and the mortal remains of Saul and Jonathan were car- 
ried to the hereditary sepulchre of their family in the tribe 
of Benjamin. 

In short, the power which had given the kingdom a centre 
of union had subjugated the nations of kindred race, had 
shown a bold front to the enemies of the country, and had 
finally subdued a wealthy region beyond the scene of all these 
complications. It had united the two ideas of Jehovah and 
the monarchy, and now contrived also to maintain its ground 
against the reactionary movements from within. 

Scarcely were these results attained when the question of 
the succession in the house of Jesse once more came into 
prominence. Adonijah, the eldest and superficially the most 
gifted of the sons of David, made preparations to assure him- 
self of the regal power in his father's lifetime. The king 
had connived at his taking several preliminary steps to this 
end, and at length Adonijah invited his friends to a banquet 
designed at the same time to inaugurate the succession. He 
had on his side the grandees of the realm, Joab, the com- 
mander-in-chief, and Abiathar, one of the two high-priests, 
the representative of the second line in the Aaronic succes- 
sion, that of Ithamar, which had displaced the elder branch. 
He was joined also by the king's other sons, with the excep- 
tion of Solomon, the youngest. 

But around Solomon and his mother Bathsheba another 



THE TWELVE TKIBES OF ISRAEL. 

combination was formed. Joab, indeed, took the part of 
Adonijah ; not so, however, the armed retinue of the king. 
The Book of Kings says that the king's " mighty men," no 
doubt those Jewish praetorians wlio liad the executive in 
their hands, had not been tampered with by Adonijah. Their 
captain, Benaiah, and the second high-priest, the head of the 
elder line of succession, were against Adonijah and in favor 
of Solomon. Moreover, this party had what the other lacked, 
the support of a prophet. At an earlier period David had 
been in a certain sense prophet as well as king; now, how- 
ever, Nathan appeared, and through his address the king was 
gained in favor of the succession of his youngest son. The 
fact of most weight in determining the issue was that the 
conception of the prophetic office, which had been realized 
in the son o( Jesse and had helped him to attain so exalted 
a position, would have been thrust into the background by 
Adonijah, who claimed the throne by right of primogeniture, 
whilst it secured complete and predominant influence upon 
the elevation of Solomon. So thought the body-guard of 
the king, who now joined the party of the prophet, under 
their captain, Benaiah, a man entirely devoted to the cause; 
for the conduct of the commander-in-chief had been in the 
highest degree arbitrary, and he had much blood to answer 
for, with which the new government refused to be burdened. 
Consequently the king, who was always wavering between 
conflicting influences, pronounced for the youngest of his 
sons. Solomon was anointed by the second high-priest, Zadok, 
acting under the protection of Benaiah. The body-guard 
gathered round the king's state mule, upon which Solomon 
rode up the ascent to the tabernacle. The aged hero David, 
that union of violence and magnanimity, of ideal exaltation 
and practical experience, vanishes from the scene, and his 
death soon afterwards follows. 

In the struggle of the two parties Solomon rose to power, 
Adonijah was at first spared, but when he aspired to a mar- 
riage which would have caused the people to regard him as 
the king's successor he was put to death. Joab fell by the 
hand of Benaiah, although he had grasped the horns of the 
altar. The high-priest, Abiathar, was banished from the city, 



ACCESSION OF SOLOMON. 53 

and the supreme priestly dignity returned to the line which 
had originally enjoyed it, aud which till recently had trans- 
mitted it in hereditary succession. Solomon thus became 
possessed of the kingdom, though in a somewhat irregular 
manner. He could not, however, maintain his father's posi- 
tion to its full extent. It was probably at the very com- 
mencement of his reign that he lost Damascus, a loss which, 
though it might not be disadvantageous to the central prov- 
inces of Israel, was destined as time went on to be more and 
more sensibly felt. Damascus then fell into the hands of an 
Aramaic chieftain, who forthwith became one of Solomon's 
opponents. But Solomon took care to secure control over 
the great commercial roads, as far as they passed through his 
territories, by protecting them with fortified places. It may 
be doubted whether he founded Tadmor, in the Syrian wil- 
derness ; but it is indisputable that he devoted the greatest 
possible attention to his commercial relations. It is distinc- 
tive of Solomon that he endeavored to secure himself less 
by means of war than by friendly relations with his neigh- 
bors. He allied himself in marriage with the daughter of 
a Pharaoh, probably the last Pharaoh of the twenty -first 
dynasty, who even resigned to him several stations of impor- 
tance, so that he was safe from hostile interference on the 
side of Egypt. He also formed an intimate alliance with 
Tyre, an alliance which put him in a position to take part, in 
conjunction with the Phoenicians, in the general commerce of 
the world by way of Idunnea. 

Thus in possession of a peaceful and assured dominion, he 
set his hand to the work which has made his name famous 
for all time, the building of the Temple at Jerusalem. The 
preparations which he made for this recall the compulsory 
service which was laid in past times upon the subjects of the 
Pharaohs in the erection of the pyramids and of the temples 
of Thebes. But times were indeed changed ; the Israelites 
were now themselves building a great sanctuary to that God 
who had redeemed them from the service of the Egyptian 
deities. They had become a powerful and independent na- 
tion. The prophet Nathan is probably to be regarded as the 
originator of the idea ; it was he who removed the scruples 



54 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

which might have been derived from the arrangements hith- 
erto prevailing, especially the migrations of the tabernacle 
from one tribe to another. To him also belongs, it would 
appear, the idea that King David himself, who had mounted 
to power through war and bloodshed, was not to build the 
Temple, but to leave the work to his son. The victories to 
which the prophetic office had so largely contributed had 
first to be won. The task of building the Temple harmo- 
nized with the kingdom of peace which Solomon established. 
The Temple is a monument of the combination which was 
effected in Judah between the hereditary monarchy and the 
religious idea. The huge blocks of stone which Solomon 
brought from a distance to form a firm foundation are sup- 
posed to be still distinguishable. Timber was obtained from 
the cedar forests, with the assistance of the skilful artificers 
of Tyre. In the Temple the principal component parts of 
the tabernacle — namely, the holy place, or the cella, and the 
holy of holies, the sanctuary — reappeared, but the dimen- 
sions, height, length, and breadth, were doubled. The holy 
of holies was, as in the Egyptian temples, lower than the 
cella. In the former was placed the ark of the covenant with 
the two tables of the law from Sinai. On the entablature of 
the walls were seen the cherubim with outstretched wings, 
the symbol of the power and immediate presence of Jehovah. 
The porch was an innovation upon the plan of the tabernacle. 
The whole building thus consisted of the porch, the holy 
place, and the holy of holies, with relative proportions cor- 
responding to those which were observed in the other tem- 
ples of antiquity. Two stately pillars adorned the entrance, 
like the obelisks before the Egyptian temples. 

To the translation of the ark into the new sanctuary the 
king invited the elders of the tribes and the heads of the 
most distinguished houses ; the function itself was assigned 
to priests and Levites. There is something of the Pharaoh 
in King Solomon. Compulsory service in his architectural 
works fell specially upon the remnants of the old Canaanitish 
population. Many of the Israelites took part in the govern- 
ment, and the rest enjoyed peaceful days, each man under 
his own vine and fig-tree. Solomon's administration of jus- 



REIGN OF SOLOMON. 55 

tice united insight with authority. In him are combined the 
characteristics which, in all ages, have distinguished the great 
monarehs of the East. 

His building of the Temple, the flourishing state of his 
kingdom, and the fame of his profound wisdom obtained him 
even in his lifetime marks of homage from far and near. It 
sounds almost like an Eastern tale of later times when we 
read that the Queen of Sheba, a region of Arabia Felix, dis- 
tinguished by its rare products and its commercial prosperity, 
made a voyage to visit the King Solomon of whom she had 
heard by universal report; yet the story rests upon historical 
evidence. She laid before him questions which in her own 
mind pressed in vain for solution. Solomon was able to 
satisfy her on every point. Then she was shown the splendid 
and decorous arrangements of his court, and the sacrifices 
which he offered to his God. She exclaimed that, much as 
she had heard of Solomon, it was but the half of that which 
she now saw with her own eyes. She pronounced the people 
happy who possessed such a king, and praised Jehovah for 
having chosen him to be king over Israel. 

So runs the account in the sober and trustworthy record 
of the Book of Kings. Solomon's government manifested 
a cosmopolitan character, but ceased to correspond to the 
national conceptions. A disposition such as Solomon's was 
ill adapted to move unswervingly along the lines to which 
the development of the religion of Jehovah had hitherto 
been strictly confined. His close alliance with neighboring 
rulers, his marriage with a daughter of the Pharaoh, were in- 
compatible with that religion. Moreover, the harem which 
Solomon at the same time established for himself introduced 
from the neighboring nations foreign religious rites, which 
had to be tolerated. Nothing is said of Egyptian rites; but 
the emblems of the Sidonian Astarte found a place on the 
heights of Jerusalem, and even Moloch himself and the fire- 
god, Chemosh, were revived once more. This may, perhaps, 
have been a necessary condition of peaceful government ; 
but it could not have been acceptable to the schools of the 
prophets, which Samuel had founded for the maintenance of 
the strict worship of Jehovah. The principle of hereditary 



5G THE TWELVE TRIBES 01 ISRAEL. 

monarchy had not yet struck firm roots in the convictions 
of the people. Even in Solomon's lifetime a prophet marked 
out a man as his successor who belonged to another house 
and tribe, for to Solomon himself the continuance oi the su- 
premacy in his line had been granted only upon the condition 
that he did not walk after any other gods. This condition he 
did not fulfil. 

The tumultuary spirit which, had been excited on the de- 
cisive victories of David had never been wholly suppressed. 
Upon the death of the wise and wealthy king it unexpected- 
ly broke out. The ten tribes were tired of a monarchy in 
the authority of which they had no share, and by which they 
were only controlled. The splendor which encircled the 
throne did not dazzle them. Bat more than this : with the 
death of Solomon the political connection was broken which 
had been the distinctive advantage of his reign, and the 
Pharaohs severed themselves from his house. Among the 
Israelites an opponent of the dynasty had already started 
up, an Ephraimite named Jeroboam, who had assisted King 
Solomon in levying compulsory service and in his works of 
building. In so doing he had. according to an old tradition,* 
which it is impossible to reject, betrayed ambitious designs 
upon the supremacy, and. being on that account persecuted 
and menaced by Solomon, had taken refuge in Egypt, lie 
had already been designated by the prophet as the future 
king. In Egypt he espoused Ano. the sister-in-law of the 
new Pharaoh. She played an important part in the seraglio, 
and Jeroboam and the Pharaoh were brought into the closest 
alliance. The successor of Solomon. Rehoboam, was the 
son not of his Egyptian wife, but of an Ammonitess. With 
the acquiescence, if not with the support, of the Pharaoh, 
Jeroboam, upon the death of Solomon, returned to Mount 
Ephraim. Here the tribes which had only been compt 
by the military ascendency of Joab to obey King David as- 
sembled themselves. Their meeting-place was Sychem. the 
spot in which the memory of Jacob and Joseph was specially 

* l; is preserved in the Septuagint, which deserves thorough consid- 
eration as an independent authority, side by side with the Hebrew text. 



HEHOBOAM. 57 

cherished. They were determined to refuse allegiance to 
the son of Solomon unless he promised them an easier gov- 
ernment. Rehoboam came in person to Sychem, where the 
demand that he should lighten his father's yoke, with its im- 
plied, menace, was laid before him. He called together the 
elders of the people, to consult over the answer which he 
should, give — the elders, that is, certainly of the tribes op- 
posed to him, but probably also of those centred round Jeru- 
salem. The elders now unanimously advised him to do jus- 
tice to the expectations of the people. But neither Reho- 
boam himself nor the courtiers and companions of his youth 
would hear of the least concession. Their answer made it 
clear that an aggravation rather than alleviation of the bur- 
dens already existing was to be expected. If the people 
resisted they should be punished, not with whips, but with 
scorpions, that is, rods of knotted wood furnished with barbs, 
producing a wound like the bite of a scorpion. 

As the tribes which had formerly been brought to acknowl- 
edge David had done so only on the terms of a covenant, 
they were not inclined to tolerate patiently the continuance 
of the despotic government which had been subsequently in- 
troduced. They repeated what they had said on an earlier 
occasion, that between them and the house of Jesse in the 
tribe of Judah there was nothing in common. They did not 
consider themselves mere subjects. Exasperated at the an- 
swer they had received, they rose, according to the most trust- 
worthy account, like one man. The cry of revolt was heard, 
" To your tents, O Israel I" a cry destined to be re-echoed at 
great crises in later times. It was this cry which preluded 
the rebellion of the English against Charles I., a rebellion 
to which are to be traced the constitutional governments 
of modern days. In the ancient time of which we are writ- 
ing the cry was decisive for the destiny of Israel. 

Whilst it still resounded Rehoboam mounted his chariot to 
betake himself to Jerusalem. There he met with the recog- 
nition which David and Solomon had enjoyed before him, 
and made preparations to overpower the revolted tribes in a 
great campaign. Again, however, a prophet came forward, 
who opposed this project ; Shemaiah warned the king and his 



58 THE TWELVE TRIBES OF ISRAEL. 

people against waging war upon their brethren. The breach, 
however, which had manifested itself at Sychem remained 
unhealed. The leader of the insurrection, Jeroboam, now 
came forward as king of the ten tribes. If the Israelites had 
remained united among themselves, and had improved the po- 
sition they had gained, they would have maintained their as- 
cendency in the regions of Western Asia. It is probable, 
however, that this could only have been brought about under 
a rigorous and unscrupulous government such as Israel was 
no longer willing to endure. There is always a difficulty in 
reconciling the political aggrandizement of a prince with the 
necessary sympathy on the part of the population, for increase 
of power may very easily become an intolerable burden to the 
nation. The ten tribes, in renouncing obedience to the mon- 
archy so recently established, not only impaired its position, 
but imperilled their own security. 

High merit must be attributed to the Books of Samuel and 
of Kings as a picture of secular and, if we ma} 7- use the word, 
political history. They sketch with incomparable skill the 
steps by which a people, assailed on all sides, changes its con- 
stitution, renounces the republican form, and subjects itself 
to the concentrated power of monarchy. The natural opposi- 
tion between spiritual impulses and those tendencies towards 
complete independence, which are inherent in the temporal 
power, is here exhibited in a form symbolical for all times. 
King Saul is a great and unapproachable presence, a character 
unique in its kind, yet, historically considered, quite intelli- 
gible. In his struggle with Samuel we may see foreshadowed 
the German Emperor confronting the Papacy. So also the 
two kings, the warlike and impetuous David, the wise and 
peaceful Solomon, are prototypes for all succeeding centuries. 
In Kehoboam and Jeroboam, again, appears the feud between 
central power and provincial independence, a feud subsequent- 
ly repeated a thousand times. Yet these characters have not 
been devised as prototypes ; they wear every appearance of 
historical reality, and are at once a delightful and a profitable 
study. 



Chapter III. 

TYRE AND ASSUR. 

The genuine historical character which we recognize in the 
story of Israel as given in the Book of books makes the 
absence of similar records in the case of the neighboring na- 
tions all the more marked. There is extant an ethnographical 
document, the so-called List of Nations, which perhaps does 
not really belong to the very early times to which it is as- 
signed, but which enables us to conceive the way in which 
Israel figured to itself the human race and its several nation- 
alities, probably in the time of the judges or of Samuel. 

It is quite in harmony with the religions idea of Judaism 
that in this enumeration there is no trace of contempt for 
what is foreign, no marked separation into nations of kindred 
stock and barbarians. All nations appear in it as equal, free, 
and akin to one another through their common ancestor, who 
is not Adam, but Noah. This much is signified by the gene- 
alogy which derives tiie nations of the world from Noah's three 
sons. We must content ourselves with noticing generally the 
extent of the horizon here revealed.* 

In one direction Southern Arabia was known to the Israel- 
ites, probably through the sea voyages of the Egyptians, such 
as those which are depicted on the monuments. In the other 
direction, through the voyages of the Phoenicians, they had 
become acquainted, at least by hearsay, with the lands of the 
Caucasus and the coasts of the Mediterranean. The List of 
Nations shows they had some notion of the tribes of the 

* "We need not concern ourselves with the divergences between the 
separate versions of this list discovered by a critical examination of the 
text (Dillmann, " Genesis," p. 174). Even the latest of these versions dates 
from extreme antiquity. 



60 TYRE AND ASSUR. 

Caucasus, of some commercial populations on the Black Sea, 
of the islands of the Mediterranean, and perhaps also of Gaul 
and Spain, signified by Rodanim and Tarshish ; but we can 
scarcely suppose that they were really acquainted with all the 
regions and the inhabitants included within these extreme 
limits. 

They were well acquainted with Egypt, Libya, Ethiopia, 
and the countries round the Euphrates, Elam, Shinar, and prob- 
ably also Assyria. The Hebrews were closely connected with 
the Phoenicians, by nationality, situation, and intercourse. 
The views of the former had been originally directed to the 
occupation of the whole country, inclusive of the coast line. 
But here a power had been formed of a character different 
from that of the Canaanitish kingdoms in general ; and this 
power, like that of the Philistines, they were unable to sub- 
due. The coast line winds considerably, and its inlets gave 
shelter to a thriving and industrious nation of artisans and 
seamen. The promontories form safe natural harbors, in 
which from early times maritime settlements were established. 
Of all these Sidon was the oldest, and from it originally the 
whole nation derived its name. Tyre comes next in date ; 
but it does not appear that Tyre was a colony from Sidon, 
though indeed the ancients assumed it to be so. Had there 
been this relationship of colony and parent state it would 
have been consecrated by religion, and would have left its 
traces in monuments other than those which are actually 
found. 

The whole coast is better adapted than any other in the 
world for long sea voyages. The wind seems to blow as if 
by design in the direction of Cyprus and Rhodes, whence com- 
munication with Egypt is easy. Thence a current sets north- 
ward along the coast, and facilitates the return voyage to Phoe- 
nicia. Aided by these natural advantages, Phoenician mer- 
chants swarmed at an early date in the eastern basin of the 
Mediterranean. Later on, Tyre pushed into the western gulf, 
reached Gades, and founded Carthage. Gradually the Phoeni- 
cian coast became the metropolis of the trade between East 
and West. From her commerce Phoenicia derived great polit- 
ical importance. We have already mentioned how Babylon 



COMMERCE. 61 

and the east of Phoenicia joined hands at Damascus. The 
words Phoenician and Punic are identical, especially for the 
West. In the East the Phoenicians availed themselves of 
the numerous commercial routes, and to this end their alli- 
ance with Judsea was of the greatest service to them. The 
tribes which had pushed farthest towards Phoenicia even 
became her dependents. The Temple of Solomon itself was 
only built with the assistance of the Phoenicians. Neverthe- 
less the two nationalities, though belonging to the same 
ethnological family, remained always essentially distinct in 
character. Israel was an inland people, whilst Phoenicia had 
in her hands the whole commerce of the world by land and 
sea. At the time when the Israelitish monarchy was at its 
greatest power, a monarchical constitution was introduced in 
Tyre. King Hiram was the friend of David and of Solomon. 
But when, upon the death of Solomon, the schism took place 
in the kingdom of the twelve tribes, their nearest neighbors, 
Egypt and Phoenicia, obtained a preponderance which they 
had not hitherto possessed. 

The Pharaoh Shishak, who is regarded as the founder of 
the twenty-second dynasty, and who had formed an alliance 
with Jeroboam, thus found an opportunity of waging war 
upon Judah. The great wealth which had been accumulated 
in the Temple under Solomon must have had a special fasci- 
nation for him : it fell into his hands, including all the golden 
shields with which the king on high feast days delighted to 
make parade. An inscription has been found upon the outer 
wall of a temple at Thebes, in which the Jews are depicted 
as smitten by the victorious war-club of the Pharaoh.* This 
was a death-blow to the political power of Judah. Yet the 
influence of Phoenicia upon Israel went far deeper, being the 
influence not of arms and of conquest, but of morals and of 
religion. 

One of the most powerful of the kings over the ten tribes, 
Ahab, the eighth in the series, whose date is about the year 

* Rosellini, "Monuraenti Storici," iv. 157. Amongst the towns named 
in the inscription are to be distinguished Mahanaim, Beth-horon, Beth- 
anoth, and Ramah (Brugsch, " Geschichte iEgyptens," p. CGI sq.). As 
far as can be seen, Jerusalem is not mentioned. 



02 TYRE AND ASSUR. 

900, had married Jezebel, the daughter of the Tyrian king 
Ethbaal (Ithobaal), who had previously been priest of Astarte. 
These were the days in which the rites of Tyre were spread- 
ing and establishing themselves through her commercial col- 
onies in all parts of the world. The daughter of the king 
who had been a priest brought with her more than eight hun- 
dred theophoreti, or priests and ministers of her gods. Be- 
fore these it seemed as if the worship of Jehovah must give 
way. 

Ahab built a temple to Baal, in Samaria, served by four 
hundred priests; he established an oracle of Astarte in a 
grove near Jezreel, in a fruitful region abounding in gardens 
laid out after the Phoenician manner, and chosen by Jezebel 
for her residence. Here, however, a violent struggle broke 
out between the two religions. As the opponent of the 
queen and of the idols of Baal, the prophet Elijah comes upon 
the scene, a man who knew no respect of persons, and whose 
animating principle was the absolute authority of religion. 
The feeling is never so strong as when religion is menaced 
and compelled to do battle for existence. 

The queen persecuted the prophets of Jehovah, who con- 
cealed themselves in the caves of the region, where bread and 
water, supplied by faithful worshippers of Jehovah, gave 
them a scanty subsistence. One of the fugitive prophets was 
Elijah, a man descended from the settlers in Gilead ; the 
legend represents him as having been fed with bread and 
meat by ravens at the brook Kishon, which runs through the 
plain. Again and again compelled to flee, he constantly re- 
appears, to the consternation of Ahab, to whom his presence 
is like the burden of an evil conscience. "Is it thou," says 
Ahab, on his presenting himself once more before him, "thou 
bringer of destruction to Israel?" "Thou," answers Elijah, 
" art the destroyer of Israel, since thou hast forsaken Jeho- 
vah and servest Baal." On one occasion a contest between 
the two religions took place upon Mount Carmel. Elijah 
was victorious. He repaired a ruined altar of Jehovah, and 
fitted it for a sacrifice ; around it he placed twelve stones, 
representing the twelve tribes, and then called upon the God 
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The people, at first silent and 



ELIJAH AND JEZEBEL. 63 

undecided, came over to his side. Jehovah, who consumed 
the sacrifice with fire and gave rain after long drought, 
was recognized by the people as the true God. A terrible 
vengeance was then taken upon the ministers of Baal ; they 
were, according to the literal statement in the text, slaugh- 
tered at the brook Kishon. On Jezebel, however, the occur- 
rence produced a very different effect ; she threatened the 
prophet incontinently with the same doom which had befallen 
her priests, and nothing remained for him but a new flight 
into the wilderness. We find him in Mount Iloreb, the spot 
where the religion of Jehovah was announced to the world. 
Thence he returned, convinced that the worship of Jehovah 
was only to be rescued by the re-establishment of a govern- 
ment which should be true to it. For a considerable time 
Jezebel and Elijah still confront each other. The prophet, 
in his garment of hair and leathern girdle, passes through the 
land, or takes his seat upon some eminence, alone but unas- 
sailable. Even the royal troops are at length brought to re- 
vere in his person the power of Jehovah. In the midst of 
these struggles he vanishes from the scene. Tradition makes 
him disappear from sight in a chariot and horses of fire — fit- 
ting emblems of a life-lon«; battle. But he left behind him 
a disciple, Elisha, who accomplished what his master had 
planned. 

As Jezebel had ruled Ahab, so, after his death, she con- 
tinued to rule his sons. She is the first of those women whom 
the history of the world exhibits in league with the powers of 
darkness; the religion of Baal and Astarte manifests all its 
effects in her person. Even over Judah Jezebel had won pre- 
dominant influence by the marriage of her daughter with the 
king's son. In brief, there was at stake at this time nothing 
less than the maintenance or the destruction of the worship 
of Jehovah in both kingdoms. Elisha set himself to carry 
out his master's purpose. At his word Jehu, the captain of 
the Israelitish army, was anointed king with the magic oil. 
He slew the kings of Israel and of Judah with his own 
hand, and then betook himself to that place, consecrated to 
Astarte, where Jezebel lived. She saw him coming; and, 
employing an Egyptian cosmetic which made the eyes appear 



CJ. TYRE AND ASSUR. 

larger, she stepped to the window in the ghostlike disguise of 
her idolatrous worship as Jehu drew near. At his challenge 
she was thrown out of the window by the attendant eunuchs, 
and her blood was sprinkled on the walls. Jehu drove his 
chariot over her corpse. Once more Jehovah was victorious in 
the person of His prophets. Elijah triumphed after his death. 
The worship of Jehovah was saved through this change of 
dynasty, and Elisha lived forty-five years longer to support 
the house of Jehu. 

A daughter of Jezebel, however, named Athaliah, was still 
living in Jerusalem. She had erected a temple of Baal be- 
side the temple of Jehovah. It seemed to be her design to 
annihilate the whole house of David, for these women were 
as bloodthirsty as the Baal-Moloch whom they worshipped. 
Only one scion of the family of Jesse had been saved, a child 
named Joash, who owed his preservation to a sister of King 
Ahaziah, the wife of the high-priest, Jehoiada. The high- 
priest brought up the boy secretly till his seventh year; then 
he took steps to overthrow the guilty mother in his name. 
Jehoiada was a descendant of that Zadok by whom Solomon 
had been set upon the throne, and was, like Zadok, joined by 
the captains of the body-guard. The young Joash was already 
standing in the Temple, in the place reserved for the wearer 
of the crown. The people proclaimed him king. Alarmed 
by the uproar, Athaliah hastened to the Temple, and exclaim- 
ing, " Treason ! treason !" fled for refuge to the palace. There 
at the door she was slain ; for in the sacred precincts they had 
been unwilling to lay hands upon her, remembering that she 
too was a king's daughter. Later writers have said that she 
had attempted the murder of the boy, and such would un- 
doubtedly have been the result had she remained in power. 
On her death, however, the child Joash became king in her 
stead. As the prophet ruled in Israel, so the high-priest now 
ruled in Jndah. The temple of Baal was destroyed, the 
priests of the false gods slain, and there was a complete return 
to the usages of David and Solomon. To this violent reaction 
against the intrusion of Baal-worship the continued existence 
of the old religion of Jehovah was due. 

If we inquire how events could have taken this turn un- 



RISE OF ASSYRIA. 65 

impeded, how it was that the queen and her family received 
no support from Tyre, no aid from the strongholds of the 
Phoenician religion, I affirm without hesitation, unexpected 
as the statement may be, that it was the rise of the Assyrian 
monarchy, and the advance of that power to the shores of the 
Mediterranean, which had the chief share in producing this 
result. 

The ancient world had many a story to repeat of an As- 
syrian monarchy, founded, it was said, by Ninus and Semir- 
amis, and ending with Sardanapalus. But Semiramis and 
Sardanapalus are mythical figures. The name Ninus is a 
personification of Nineveh, a word which means " settlement." 
These are tales on which universal histoiy cannot dwell. 
History discovers in the first instance not great monarchies, 
but small tribal districts or communities of primitive organiza- 
tion, existing independently side by side, each with its own 
peculiarities. The principal fact revealed to us by the ancient 
Assyrian monuments which have been found in our own 
times, and have been more or less deciphered, is that in the 
tenth and ninth centuries before our era — the epoch to which 
not only the power of Tyre and the reign of the Ethiopian 
Pharaohs in Egypt, but also the division of the kingdom of 
Israel into two groups of tribes, is to be assigned — there were 
still many small independent kingdoms on both sides of the 
Euphrates and the Tigris, as well as in the regions round the 
sources of these two rivers. All these kingdoms were flourish- 
ing, wealthy, and securely established. Wherever we look 
we find monarchical governments, towns more or less fortified, 
national forces, and accumulated treasures. Most of these na- 
tions are of Semitic origin. Though Babylon may have been 
a great religious metropolis, local religions were everywhere 
established, which in a manner sanctified the local indepen- 
dence. 

Until Assur came into prominence not one of these king- 
doms achieved a decided preponderance of power. They 
were all engaged in mutual hostilities and petty wars. The 
oldest traditions derive Assur from Babylon ; its importance 
in the world at large dates from the conquest of Nineveh, a 
great centre of commerce between eastern and western Asia, 

5 



CG TYRE AND ASSUR. 

situated in a position which at a later era was found specially 
suitable for trade. At an earlier epoch Assur and Chalach, 
the ruins of which still remain, had been the seats of the 
monarchy ; gradually Nineveh assumed this position. What 
we learn from the monuments lately discovered tills up a gap 
in universal history which was always sensibly felt. About 
more remote antiquity we still lack, it is true, solid and trust- 
worthy information, and all our knowledge is fragmentary 
and uncertain ; but upon the period from the division of the 
Jewish kingdom till the rise of the Persians we possess his- 
torical testimony of the most welcome description. 

Never were there princes more ambitious to live to pos- 
terity than those of Assyria. The walls of their palaces were 
inscribed with an account of their exploits, and a curse was 
pronounced upon all who should injure this record. Never- 
theless they remained utterly forgotten for two thousand 
vears, till they were brought to light again by the science of 
Europe. It is with keen interest that we undertake a reca- 
pitulation of the contents of these inscriptions, as far as they 
are ascertained, always with the proviso that they await fur- 
ther study to confirm and amplify them. 

First and foremost, then, we come upon the evidences of 
a firm alliance, but a no less constant rivalry, with Babylon. 
Mention is made of a king who leaves behind him two sons, 
one of whom rules in Assur, the other in Babel. In Babel 
we have evidence of the struggle between this power and the 
original inhabitants, called Akkad and Snmir, who are as- 
sumed to have belonged to the Turanian stock. The king 
Hammurabi boasts that Bin and Bel, the gods of his own 
branch of the human family, have given these nations into his 
hand, and that he has been the first to make the country habit- 
able by means of a system of embankments. Yet the assist- 
ance of Assur was always necessary to keep the inhabitants in 
subjection, and to maintain the hereditary monarch in posses- 
sion. At times, indeed, kings of Babylon come forward, who 
make inroads into Assur, but they are always defeated in the 
end, and Assur still remains in the ascendant. Then follow 
eoropacts, marriage alliances, and after an interval fresh dis- 
sensions and fresh Avars. 



ASSUR-NASIR-HABAL. G7 

It is in the first half of the ninth century B.C. that the 
Assyrian king who may be regarded as the real founder of 
the greatness of Assyria conies on the scene. He was not 
without forerunners in his undertakings; he praises one of 
his predecessors as a man without equal among the kings of 
the four quarters of the earth, but even that monarch's glory 
is eclipsed b}' his own. This great king was Assur-nasir-habal, 
the prince from whose palace were obtained most of those 
relics of Assyria which have found their way into the mu- 
seums of Europe. We cannot pass by the inscription in which 
he describes his exploits without giving its purport as far as 
it can be understood. First of all, Assur-nasir-habal mentions 
the consolidation of his power and authority in the Babylonish 
provinces, especially in Kardunias, the land of the Chaldccs, 
a result which he attributes to the terror of his name. Then 
follows a hazardous campaign against Nairi, a district which 
is to be found perhaps in the mountain region in which the 
Tigris rises. Its inhabitants obeyed a number of separate 
chieftains. The king of Assyria imposes a tribute upon them, 
consisting of silver and gold, chariots and horses, and all kinds 
of supplies, and establishes a deputy in those parts. An in- 
surrection breaks out, which gives the king once more a pre- 
text for invading the country. He takes the towns, hunts out 
the fugitives in their mountains, and kills many of their 
people. He exhibits the violent spirit of a conqueror who 
thinks himself justified in punishing insurrection with the ut- 
most severity. He mentions also neighboring populations, 
over whom he has poured himself forth "like the God of the 
Flood." He erects pyramids of the heads of the slain, as did 
the Mongolian Khans at a later date, and impales or crucifies 
the conquered insurgents. 

A subsequent campaign leads him against the Snkhi, who 
dwell beside the Euphrates, and are encouraged by the assist- 
ance of their neighbors, the Chatti, to attack him. We here 
see exhibited the whole plan and progress of the war. The 
enemy are well equipped and have courageous leaders. The 
first pitched battle is indecisive. But the king of Assyria 
succeeds in occupying the capital, where many of the con- 
federates fall into his hands. Among the spoil which he 



GS TYRE AND ASSUR. 

acquires are found war chariots, articles of male attire, and 
abundance of gold and silver. The terror of his arms spreads 
far and wide, amid signs of universal subjection. Soon, how- 
ever, the king is summoned back by a new insurrection. He 
again conquers the enemy and their confederates, destroys and 
burns the towns, and takes away some of the inhabitants with 
him to Assyria. lie builds several fortresses to replace the 
towns. 

The names exhibited in the inscriptions belong to an almost 
unknown world, only drawn within the horizon of history at 
a later date. But it is a most important fact that the Assyrian 
conquests were pushed without interruption until they reached 
the scene of all the movements and conflicts between race and 
race which had hitherto affected the course of universal history. 

Assur-nasir-habal once more makes an expedition, in which 
he marches as far as the Orontes and subdues the fortified 
places which offer resistance ; he subjugates in person the 
most powerful chieftain, and settles his Assyrians in the 
principal localities. Then he crosses Lebanon, reaches the 
Mediterranean, and compels Tyre, Sidon, and other towns to 
pay him tribute. Here, too, he offers sacrifice to his gods, and 
causes cedars to be felled in Amanus, to be employed in the 
temples which he is constructing at Nineveh in honor of 
Astarte. Thus, between the capitals situated on the banks 
of the Tigris and those on the shores of the Mediterranean, 
through districts inhabited by subject nations, a lasting con- 
nection was formed, achieved by war and conquest. 

I think, then, that the retrograde movement of the Tyrian 
Baal-worship in Israel and Judah* is to be connected with 
this advance of the Assyrians, extending to the Phoenician 



* Assur-nasir-habal's date is fixed at 882-857. To determine the reign 
of Jehu we must make it our starting-point that its commencement is fixed 
98 years after the division of the kingdom, which, according to the table 
of the Israelitish kings, if we reckon back from the carrying away of the 
ten tribes in the year 722, falls in the year 9G2 ; consequently the begin- 
ning of Jehu's reign falls in the year SG4. He reigned 28 years — that is, 
till 836. This so far agrees, with the results of Assyriological inquiry 
that in an inscription of the year 843 (841) Jehu is said to be mentioned 
as a vassal of Salmanassar. 



ASSUR-NASIR-HABAL. 69 

towns. The divinities of Tyre could not be expected to sub- 
due Israel while they were experiencing a great loss of prestige 
in their own home. This appearance, in the first half of the 
ninth century B.C., of a power advancing irresistibly from the 
heart of Asia towards the West is an event of immeasurable 
importance in the history of the world. Phoenicia, situated 
as she was on the fringe of the mountain ranges, could not 
hold her ground when a superior power became master of 
the hill country itself, and deprived her of the primary con- 
dition of her independence. The situation recalls King David 
to our mind. If the Israelites had succeeded in keeping 
Damascus and concluding a close alliance with the maritime 
towns, it would have been possible to drive the Assyrians back 
within their own borders. "With the dissolution of the Israel- 
itish kingdom into two portions, one of which had yielded to 
the Egyptian arms, the other to the Phoenician idolatry, this 
had become impossible. Damascus, after freeing itself from 
Solomon, had become an independent power which proved 
more than a match for the Israelites in their turn. Whilst, 
however, the two powers were endeavoring by sanguinary wars 
to settle the question whether Jehovah was merely a God of 
the hills, as the Syrians maintained, or whether He could also 
win a battle on the plain, the great kingdom in the East arose, 
to which the combatants were able to offer only a partial and 
unavailing resistance. 

Assur-nasir-habal, whose death is assigned to the year 857, 
was succeeded by Salmanassar, distinguished as the second 
king of this name, who pushed still farther in the direction 
of Syria. One of his inscriptions relates that in his sixth 
campaign he crossed the Euphrates on rafts and defeated 
Ben-hadad (Ben-hidri) of Damascus, who was in alliance with 
Hamath and other neighboring powers. Five years later a 
new campaign had to be undertaken, in which Ben-hadad, 
in alliance with twelve other kings, was again defeated and 
compelled to take to flight. But this does not complete the 
conquest of Syria. Ben-hadad is replaced by Hazael (Khaza- 
ilu), of whom it is affirmed in the Hebrew tradition that he 
had long before been appointed king of Syria by Elijah, as 
Jehu had been appointed king of Israel by Elisha. In the 



70 TYKE AND ASSUK. 

Assyrian inscriptions it is recorded that Ilazael goes to meet 
the king of Assyria, to fight with him. lie is admirably 
furnished with horses and war chariots, but Salmanassar con- 
quers him and becomes master of his camp. This may be 
regarded as the decisive battle, in consequence of which three 
years later Salmanassar occupied the fortified places and im- 
posed a tribute on the country. Jehu, king of Israel, is men- 
tioned among his tributaries. On an obelisk of Salmanassar, 
at Chalach, the Jews are seen offering tribute. Salmanassar 
is saying, " Bars of gold, bars of silver, cups of gold, I re- 
ceived." The inscriptions on the obelisk are supplemented 
by others on two winged bulls. Salmanassar directs his vic- 
torious arms towards the east as well as towards the west. Pre- 
sented as tribute from the land of Muzri are camels, a rhinoc- 
eros, a hippopotamus, and apes, from which we may conclude 
that Salmanassar had advanced as far as the highlands of Iran. 
Thus the great event of the ninth century may be con- 
sidered to be this: that the military power of Assur, after 
obtaining the ascendant within its proper region, moved on 
towards the west, and after reducing the mountainous district 
which dominates Phoenicia, and so Phoenicia itself, broke the 
military power of Damascus and began to be supreme in 
Syria. The necessary consequence was that the Assyrian 
power obtained a certain influence upon both the Israelitish 
kingdoms, one fraught with important consequences in the 
immediate future.* 

* Just as we come to the first evidences of the action of Assyria upon 
Israel we encounter an historical difficulty, siuce Phul — the name of the 
Assyrian king to whom the books of Scripture ascribe this influence — 
has not been discovered in the cuneiform inscriptions of Assyria. An 
attempt has been made to explain the name as resulting from a miscon- 
ception of the middle syllabic of the name Tiglath-Pileser; a division of 
government in the Assyrian monarchy has also been assumed to account 
for it. As the names Phul and Tiglath-Pileser are mentioned next each 
other not only in the Books of Kings, but in the Chronicles, which in- 
serts in its genealogical section an ancient notice referring to the disper- 
sion of the tribes, we can hardly identify them, especially since in the 
inscription to which reference is made gaps are to be noticed, which may 
have been filled by other names (cf. Von Gutschmicl, "Neuc Beitrage zur 
Geschichte des Alten Orient3, ,, p. 118). 



TIGLATH-PILESER. 71 

This influence asserted itself in the following way. With 
the close of the dynasty of Jehu the kingdom of the ten tribes 
fell into a state of intestine anarchy. Three princes com- 
peted for the throne. Men ah em, who succeeded in making 
good his claim, indulged in acts of the greatest violence. We 
are told that even those w r ho took sanctuary in places recog- 
nized by the law were put to death. It was an event of no 
little importance that Hosea, whom I may call, if not the first, 
at any rate the greatest but one of all the prophets, abandoned 
his unavailing efforts and left Israel to itself. Then the 
Assyrians came and overran the land. Menahem, whom they 
supported in his claim to dominion, was nevertheless com- 
pelled to pay tribute, which he had to extort from the most 
influential of his own subjects. This was, in point of fact, a 
virtual subjugation of Israel. In the inscriptions in which 
Tiglath-Pileser enumerates the tributary princes, Menahem 
appears along with the princes of Commagene, Damascus, 
Tyre, Byblus, and Carchemish. It is the rulers of Asia Minor, 
Phoenicia, and Syria who are cited by Tiglath-Pileser as his 
vassals. Judah, Edom, and the Philistines are not found in 
the list. Yet, with almost inconceivable want of foresight, 
the petty princes who were left in power in Israel and 
Damascus, intent only upon their immediate advantage and 
regardless of the menacing neighborhood of an irresistible 
enemy, united to attack the king of Judah. The latter had 
no other means of escape except to league himself with 
Tiglath-Pileser, to whom he became tributary, and thus soon 
afterwards his name is found added to the list of subject 
princes.* 

Thus about the middle of the eighth century the independ- 
ence of both parts of the old Israelitish kingdom came virtu- 
ally to an end. This was not so much the result of great 
efforts from without as of differences arising between and 
within the two kingdoms. As soon as Hosea, the king 
established by Assyria in Samaria, ventured to refuse the 
tribute to Salmanassar, the fourth of the name, he was taken 
prisoner by him. Salmanassar was preparing to besiege 

* Tiglath-Pileser (Tukat-pal-asar) reigned from 745 to 727. 



72 TYRE AND ASSUR. 

Samaria, when, in consequence of trouble in Phoenicia, he 
was compelled to divide his forces.* 

Salmanassar's premature death prevented him from carry- 
ing out his plans. They were taken in hand by his successor, 
Sargon,who appears in the inscriptions as Sarkin or Sarrukin. 
He recounts his own achievements thus: "With the help 
of the god Samas, who gives me victory over my enemies, 
J have taken the city of Samaria. I have made slaves of 
27,280 of the inhabitants and caused them to be led away 
into the land of Assur ; the men whom my hand hath sub- 
dued I have made to dwell in the midst of my own subjects." 
It is therefore clear that Sargon is to be regarded as the real 
destroyer of the kingdom of Samaria, lie dealt in the same 
way with the regions of Syria and with Damascus, quelling 
the insurrection there and making it possible to settle Arme- 
nians and Assyrians in this district also. It is a striking fact 
that all this could happen without opposition from Egypt, al- 
though the king of Assyria was thus violently intruding upon 
the scene of her aggrandizement in times past. 

We possess but the scantiest information about the condi- 
tion of Egypt at this epoch ; but it is indisputable that the 
kingdom of the Ramesidre, after the expedition of Sheshon 
against Judah, was assailed from within and without by 
changes of the most destructive kind. We learn that the 
rulers of Ethiopia added Egypt to their dominions, but aban- 
doned the country again through dread of the power of the 
priests. Then an intestine struggle broke out in the military 
caste, which, though unable to protect the soil, was in posses- 
sion of a great portion of it. In the course of this struggle a 
priest proclaimed himself Pharaoh, contrary to all traditional 
usage. A new partition of the soil was undertaken ; the con- 
sequence, as may be supposed, was universal convulsion and 
disorder. It is not possible to assign exact dates to the sepa- 
rate catastrophes which ensued ; we only know that for a 
considerable period a state of things prevailed in which Egypt 
was not in a position to assist her old Syrian allies. The king 
of Gaza, whom Sargon next attacked, brought over to his side 

*Salmanassar reicrned from 727 to 722, Sarkin from 722 to 705. 



SARGON. 73 

one of the masters of Egypt for the time being, who figures 
under the title Siltan (Sultan). Sargon narrates that the 
united armies of Gaza and Egypt came against him, but were 
driven by him from the field with the help of Assur, his lord ; 
that the Siltan escaped, but that Ilanno of Gaza fell into his 
hands. He dealt with Gaza as he had dealt with Samaria 
and Damascus. The cities were plundered and reduced to 
ashes; many of the inhabitants, more than 9000 in number, 
were led away to Assyria. It was of less importance to him 
to annex Egypt than to occupy Gaza, in order to consolidate 
his conquests in Western Asia. Even the Philistines were no 
longer able to oppose him. In Ashdod, one of the chief cit- 
ies of their Pentapolis, there lived a prince who had striven 
to rouse all his neighbors against the dominion of the Assyr- 
ians, and who refused to pay his tribute. Sargon narrates 
that he made the subjects of this prince desert him, and estab- 
lished another in his place, who, however, proved unable to 
hold his own ; and that a third ruler was set up by the people, 
named Iaman, who in his turn refused to acknowledge the su- 
premacy of Assyria. In the wrath of his heart Sargon turned 
with his war chariots and the horsemen of his train against 
Ashdod, and took possession of it. He carried the gods of 
the Philistines away with him, amongst them doubtless the 
fish -god, in whose temple had been deposited the severed 
head of King Saul in days gone by. He tells us that he 
established a deputy in Ashdod, and treated the inhabitants 
like the Assyrians themselves, so that they obeyed his com- 
mands. 

A Philistine chieftain had taken refuge in Egypt, but so 
great was the terror spread by the Assyrian arms that he was 
delivered up by the Egyptian rulers. Sargon's authority ex- 
tended even to Arabia ; the inscriptions mention a king of 
Saba from whom Sargon exacted tribute. The inscriptions 
are the vain-glorious bulletins of a conqueror, but the informa- 
tion which they contain is beyond all price. We learn from 
them that the successes in Western Asia were accompanied 
by incessant struggles in the east and north of the kingdom. 
Three times the Urarti (Armenians) and their neighbors near 
Ararat rise in revolt. They are conquered; and horrible, al- 



74 TYKE AND ASSUR. 

most unheard-of even amongst barbarians, is the chastisement 
with which they are visited. They are flayed alive. Proba- 
bly through dread of the same doom, Ursa, the leader of this 
insurrection, dies by his own hand. An incessant opposition 
is maintained by the Modes, among whose princes we iind the 
name Dayakku, presumedly the person well known to the 
Greeks as Deiokes. Sargon transforms four Median towns 
into Assyrian fortresses. In one inscription he mentions 
twenty-eight, in another of later date forty-live, Median princes 
from whom he has received tribute. But his hardest struggle 
would seem to have been with Babylon, once a close ally, then 
often subjugated, and now again hostile. 

A king established there by Salmanassar was overthrown 
by a native chieftain and potentate, Merodach-Baladan (Mar- 
duk-bal-iddin). Sargon was at first obliged to allow him to 
remain ruler of South and North Chaldaia. Soon afterwards 
the struggle was renewed. Merodach-Baladan invoked the 
assistance of nomad tribes of Arabs, whilst at the same time 
he formed a league with the king of Elam, and took up a 
strong position in the rear of a canal which branched from 
the Euphrates.* Sargon, however, vanquished him and com- 
pelled him to take to flight. The golden insignia of royalty, 
crown, sceptre, and throne, fell into the hands of the conqueror. 
Then he appears as a great monarch in Babel ; he receives 
tribute from an island called Dilmun, in the Persian Gulf. 
In the ruins of Kitium, in Cyprus, was found some years ago 
a granite column of victory, with a cuneiform inscription, 
which had been erected as a memorial of Sargon. He is 
everywhere victorious, more, however, in subduing insurrec- 
tions by the most violent methods, than by making new con- 
quests. It is clear that Sargon occupied a very important 
position in the world of his day, in spite of his illegitimate 

'"Inscription in Lenormant,'' Ilistoircancienne dd'Oricnt," i. iG0,whose 
excerpts give much new and important matter. The quotations from 
the Tynan annals appended by Lenormant arc better referred to Sal- 
manassar than to Sargon. Maspcro, " History of the Eastern Nations in 
Ancient Times" (p. 390 sq. of the German translation by Pietschmann), 
lays stress on the evidences of concert in the opposition made by Egypt, 
Elam, and Urarti to Sargon. 



SENNACHERIB. 75 

birth. A successful but merciless warrior, he died in the 
year 705. 

The subjugation of Israel, Philistia, Gaza, and a part of 
Arabia by the Assyrians must be regarded as the main event 
of the eighth century. We cannot assume that it was com- 
plete, for the counteracting influence of Egypt rendered this 
impossible. The war against Egypt was carried on by the 
dynasty of Sargon during the seventh century. The son of 
Sargon, Sennacherib,'" made it his first concern to measure his 
strength with the Egyptians. Egypt no doubt found it irk- 
some to send tribute to Assyria, and she had on this occasion 
the support of Ethiopia. 

In an inscription of Sennacherib it is related how countless 
troops, with Avar chariots, horsemen, and archers, in conjunc- 
tion with the Egyptians, pushed forward to attack the As- 
syrians. At Altakuf a great review was held. "In the ser- 
vice of the god Assur, my lord," says Sennacherib, "I fought 
with them and put them to flight." The sons of the king of 
Egypt and the generals of the king of Egypt and of Meroe 
were taken prisoners in the melee. We may regard this as 
the battle which established the ascendency of the Assyrians 
in Western Asia. All the independent powers which occupy 
the foreground of history were now subdued. 

Assur had no broad foundation for its national life. Its 
religion was not rooted in the soil, like that of Egypt, nor 
based on the observation of the sky and stars, like that of 
Babylon. It was a warlike confederacy of Semitic origin, 
strengthened by constant struggle with the native inhabitants, 
and gradually subduing every region accessible to its arms. 
Its gods were gods of war, manifesting themselves in the 
prowess of the ruling princes. Other tribes and towns had 
to pay it tribute, on pain of being delivered over to a horri- 
ble chastisement. 

Amidst the universal ruin Jerusalem alone stood erect. Here 
Ilezekiah had renounced all the religious infidelities of his 

* Sennacherib, or Sanherib (Sin-achi-irib), reigned from 705 to G81. 
fEltheke, a town of the Levites in the province of the tribe of Dan (cf. 
Schrader, " Keilinschriften und Geschichtsforscliung," p. 120 sq.). 



76 TYRE AND ASSUR. 

predecessors, put an end to the idolatrous rites, and restored 
the service of Jehovah in its purity. It is necessary to realize 
vividly the whole situation at this time in order to compre- 
hend and to do justice to such a presence as that of the prophet 
Isaiah, the most gifted of all the prophets in intellectual and 
spiritual power. He united together the king and the people, 
so that Jerusalem was regarded as a bulwark against the As- 
syrians, and the neighboring peoples who sought to save them- 
selves from them took refuge thither. Every one has read in 
the Book of Kings the story of the siege which Sennacherib 
laid to Jerusalem,* and how vainly he exerted himself to 
draw the people from their allegiance to their king. One of 
the principal arguments by which the Assyrians recommend 
a surrender is that all other countries and cities, together with 
their gods, have bowed to the arms of Assur. Where, they 
ask, is there a god who has been able to protect his people 
against them ? The Israelites and their prophet aver that 
Jehovah is the God who will bring this to pass ; He has, they 
say, created heaven and earth, and is the only true God. Thus 
even Jehovah came to be regarded and worshipped as a na- 
tional God. In the struggle in which each region was identi- 
fied with its representative god, He was thought to take part 
as one among many. Yet with all this Israel had never lost 
sight of those qualities which Moses had attributed to Jehovah, 
and whilst the nation was regarded as His especial property, 
He revealed himself at the same time in His essential charac- 
ter as Lord over all creatures upon earth and as the Universal 
God. This conception was realized with the greatest force 
and clearness at a time when dangers were most pressing. It 
was then that Isaiah wrote the emphatically prophetic words 
in which he proclaims that the time should come when all 
the world should seek salvation at the holy places of Jerusa- 
lem. The Jews still trusted in the national God; but, at the 
moment when they were threatened with destruction, there 

* In the account Herodotus gives of the defeat of Sennacherib, the 
mouse, the symbol of annihilation, is introduced and worked into a fanci- 
ful story. In the Hebrew tradition the retreat is considered as a miracle 
wrought by God. 



ESARH ADDON. 77 

emerged in dim outline a profound sense that the conception 
on which the religion of monotheism rests exists for all time, 
and belongs to all the world. 

Jerusalem once more maintained her independence. Sen- 
nacherib was compelled to abandon the siege, principally, it 
appears, on account of commotions which had broken out 
in Babylon. Esarhaddon, his successor, followed in his foot- 
steps.* In the inscriptions which bear his name it is re- 
corded that he made Babylon subject to his laws, and trans- 
planted Median tribes to Assyria. It was, however, towards 
Western Asia that his attention was chiefly directed. He 
relates that he has expelled the king of Sidon, slain its nobles, 
destroyed its houses, and cast its walls into the sea. lie men- 
tions twelve kings on the sea -coast, and the kings of the 
island of Cyprus, as having been made subject to him. Even 
the king of Judah is at length compelled to submit. From 
the remotest regions, probably even from Arabia, the whole 
of which he subjugates, and in which he even establishes a 
queen, he carries away a portion of the inhabitants to Assyria. 
The caravans, as Isaiah complains, are endangered and harassed 
by his sword. 

But by far the greatest of his exploits was to subdue the 
power which had hitherto been the chief opponent of Assyria. 
His father's victory had paved the way to his success. In the 
general confusion which ensued Esarhaddon successfully in- 
vaded the land of the Nile. The inscriptions assert that he 
traversed the whole of Egypt ; he calls himself king of Musur, 
or Egypt, of the land of Miluhhi (Meroe), and the land of 
Ivush. We are reminded of the old quarrel between Egypt 
and Cheta, which the Ramesidse had not been able to bring 
to a decisive issue. The Assyrians may be regarded as the 
second founders, after a long interval, of that kingdom, the 
component parts of which were already subject to them. 
They succeeded in reducing Egypt itself to subjection. 

The work which Sennacherib had begun, and Esarhaddon 
had in a great measure carried out, was completed by Assur- 
banipal. An inscription fortunately preserved, and accessible 

* Esarhacklon's reign extends from GS1 to G68. 



78 TYRE AND ASSUR. 

in several translations, shows us with what vicissitudes of for- 
tune and of policy the result was achieved. We learn from 
it that Esarhaddon had intrusted the government of the 
country to a number of tributary kings. But Taraco, king 
of lvush, who had been driven out of Egypt by Esarhaddon, 
was still alive. On the death of his conqueror he bestirred 
himself afresh. It is regarded as a sin on his part that he 
despised the war-gods of the Assyrians and trusted to his own 
strength. The potentates appointed by Esarhaddon gave 
way before Taraco and fled to the wilderness. He once more 
occupied Memphis, which Esarhaddon had expressly annexed 
to the Assyrian empire. Assurbanipal, at the command of 
the gods whom Taraco has slighted, moves with all the force 
they have placed at his disposal to encounter him. On his 
way two-and-twenty kings of the subjugated districts of West- 
ern Asia, and of the islands of the Mediterranean, pay him 
homage. Thus he reaches Egypt without difficulty. Taraco 
sends a considerable force against him, but with the help of 
the gods his lords Assurbanipal puts it to the rout. Taraco 
himself is now seized with fear of these gods, and resolves to 
retreat. The images of his gods are then brought into the 
camp of Assurbanipal. One aspect of the struggle is brought 
out in strong relief in the inscriptions ; the contest between 
the princes is at the same time a contest between their re- 
spective gods. 

Assurbanipal pursues the defeated enemy as far as Thebes. 
He lays stress upon the fact that his people have made their 
habitation in that city. It was, as we know, the principal seat 
of the glory of the Rainesidae and of the Egyptian religion. 
The occupation was, however, connected with another motive. 
The subject kings had returned, and were again established in 
their old districts ; but Assurbanipal had increased the burdens 
of the country, for the exaction and discharge of which these 
high commissioners were responsible. This led to unwelcome 
consequences. The subject kings forgot their obligations, al- 
though, as it is expressly stated, they had undertaken them 
towards the gods as well as the sovereign of Assur. They 
turned to Taraco, the king of the Ethiopians, and begged his 
support against the Assyrians. In the inscription it is related 



ASSURBANIPAL. 79 

that the commanders of the Assyrian troops have come upon 
the traces of this design ; they get into their hands the chief 
of the subject kings, whose souls are oppressed by the bur- 
den of their broken oath, and lay waste their towns, now con- 
quered for the first time. They show no mercy, and the 
country is covered with the corpses of the slain. Some of 
the subject kings are brought to Nineveh ; but Assurbanipal 
does not consider it advisable to punish them after the man- 
ner of his predecessors. It would manifestly have been im- 
possible to govern Egypt immediately through Assyrian 
officials. The king, therefore, makes an arrangement with 
Necho, the most influential of the subject princes. He pre- 
sents him with a sword of steel in a golden scabbard, and pays 
him almost royal honors ; at the same time, however, he im- 
poses upon him even harder conditions than those exacted 
hitherto. This done, he sends him back to his district, Mem- 
phis and Sais. In order completely to re-establish the sub- 
jection of Egypt the king himself visits the country. Taraco 
has died meanwhile; "his soul," says the inscription, "fled 
into the darkness." His successor has succeeded in taking 
possession of Thebes once more, but is unable to make any 
opposition to King Assurbanipal. The latter boasts that he 
has not only carried off priceless treasures from Thebes, but 
has also compelled the city to acknowledge the worship of 
the Assyrian divinities, Assur and Istar. The inscription 
commemorates a victory at once of the Assyrian religion and 
of the Assyrian empire over the land of Egypt and its gods. 
The kino; £oes on to relate that he has advanced also against 
Kush, and won great glory there ; but, without casting doubt 
upon his statement, we are not justified in assuming that he 
subdued this country, since he does not expressly say so. 
The conclusion to be drawn from his inscription — and it is 
an important one — is that Egypt, after being repeatedly over- 
run and at last completely subdued, acknowledged the sover- 
eignty of the Assyrian arms and the Assyrian gods of war. 

The power of Assurbanipal was equal to the task of hold- 
ing under control the subjects of Assyria at all points. He 
boasts of having compelled the king of Tyre to drink sea- 
water to quench his thirst. The greatest opposition he met 



80 TYRE AND ASSUR. 

with was in Elam, but this too he was able to suppress. The 
goddess appears to him in a dream, encompassed with rays of 
light, and promises him the victory which he obtains. The 
hostile king is slain, the people reduced to submission. Here, 
however, events took much the same course as in Egypt, and 
from the same cause. Assurbanipal says that he increased the 
tributes, but that his action was opposed by his own brother, 
whom he had formerly maintained by force of arms in Bab- 
ylon. This brother now seduced a great number of other 
nations and princes from their allegiance. The Assyrian su- 
premacy was new to them, and was daily growing more 
burdensome. These nationalities had been brought to ac- 
knowledge Assur, but without renouncing their own rights. 
The king of Babylon placed himself, so to speak, at their head, 
in order to protect them against his brother. The former is 
accused of an offence against religion ; he is said to have 
turned aside from Bel, the chief deity, and from the Assyrian 
war-gods — a statement which may, perhaps, mean that he ex- 
pended the treasures of the temple of Bel in the execution 
of his design. 

The danger was immensely increased when the king set 
up by Assurbanipal in Elam joined the movement. It was 
necessary to put an end to this revolt, and this was effected 
for once without much difficulty. The prince of Elam was 
slain, with part of his family, by a rebel named Tammaritu. 
Assurbanipal, invoking his gods, advances against the latter. 
At this juncture the rebel is himself attacked by another in- 
surrectionary movement, ami suffers a complete overthrow. 
Tammaritu, his head covered with dust, throws himself be- 
fore the footstool of Assurbanipal, to the glory of the Assyrian 
gods, lie is admitted to pardon and reinstated. Thereupon 
the rebellious brother in Babylon has to give way. The gods 
who go before Assurbanipal have, as he says, thrust the king 
of Babylon into a consuming lire and put an end to his life. 
His adherents, who fall into the hands of the victor, are hor- 
ribly punished. The institutions against which they have 
risen are re-established ; the provinces which joined them are 
subjected to the laws of the Assyrian gods. Even the Arabs, 
who have sided with the rebels, bow before the king, whilst 



THE ASSYRIAN EMPIRE. 81 

of his power in Egypt it is said that it extended to the 
sources of the Nile. His dominion reached even to Asia 
Minor. lie mentions Lydia as a remote country on the 
other side of the sea, of which his ancestors had never even 
heard. Gkign, king of the Luddi, that is, Gyges of Lydia, 
sends ambassadors and entreats protection from Assyria. 

The enormous extent of this power is next revealed in the 
statement that a king of Ararat has sent presents to Nineveh, 
which were regarded as tokens of homage, that insurrection- 
ary chieftains in Media and the land of the Sac® have been 
suppressed, and that seventy-five cities have been occupied in 
these regions. The Assyrian Empire united the Semitic races 
for the first and perhaps the last time in a dominion which 
extended far beyond their own frontiers, and gave them in- 
disputably the first rank among the powers of the world. Nor 
must it be forgotten that the Phoenician colonies, Carthage and 
the distant Tartessus, although they maintained their indepen- 
dence, carried into the west of Europe the community of inter- 
est which belongs to a common origin, whilst access to the east 
of Asia was opened by way of Media. Arabia also, without 
entirely succumbing to Assyria, was affected by her influence. 

Assyria is the first conquering power which M'e encounter 
in the history of the world. The most effective means which 
she brought to bear in consolidating her conquests consisted 
in the transportation of the principal inhabitants from the 
subjugated districts to Assyria, and the settlement of Assyr- 
ians in the newly acquired provinces. "We might have ex- 
pected that a method so thorough would have been attended 
by corresponding success. In Nineveh the Assyrian empire 
possessed a capital in which all the various elements of na- 
tional life then existent encountered, and must necessarily 
have modified, each other. The most important result of the 
action of Assyria upon the world was perhaps that she limited 
or broke up the petty sovereignties and the local religions of 
Western Asia. There was some policy in transplanting the 
nations. In their own home they were always exposed to the 
temptation of falling once more under the influence of the 
local religion ; with the change of soil they might be expect- 
ed to change their gods. 



g£ TYRE AND ASSUK. 

It was, then, an event which convulsed the world when 

this power, in the full current of its life and progress, sudden- 
ly ceased to exist Since the tenth century every event of 
importance had originated in Assyria: in the middle of the 
seventh she suddenly collapsed.* Yet the effects of her 

power could not by any means be effaced; on the contrary, 
all subsequent history has been affected by it. "Western Asia 

has always been one of the most important theatres in which 
the drama of the world's history has unfolded itself. On 
that stage Persians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Mongols, Turks, 
have played their parts, and have furthered or retarded civil- 
ization : but each successive act has felt the influence of As- 
syria. 

Of the manner in which the ruin of Nineveh was brought 
about we have nowhere any authentic record. + At a later 

* ILssurbanipal reigned until the year GOG; he was succeeded by Assur- 

klil-ili. 

fThe account given by Ctesias of the tall of Nineveh cannot, according 
to all appearance, be even derived from an old poem ; it is rather to be 
called a fairy tale than a legend. The passage from Alexander Polyhis- 
tor, quoted by Kusobius. is very obscure, since in it Sardanapalus (probably 
Assurbanipal, and in any ease an Assyrian prince) appears as the father 
of Nebuchadnezzar himself. It is he who is said to have brought about 
and. so to speak, compelled the marriage of the latter with the daughter 
oi' a Median king (the word " exereitum," however, is only found in the 
Latin text. Euseb, "Chronic.." ed, Sohone, i. 00; the Greek text is extant 
in Synccllus, i. p. 396, ed. Bonn), The account, as it is ordinarily given, 
rests solely on the testimony of Abydenus. an author of the second cent- 
ury after Christ. To him is to be traced the statement that the last As- 
syrian king sent out his generals to meet an advancing enemy, and that 
one of these generals, said to have been Nabopolassur, the father of Ne- 
buchadnezzar, rose against him. I cannot accept this story as counter- 
balancing the evidence of Herodotus, for. although he does not show 
himself competently informed about the course of Assyrian history.it is 
clear from his intention of writing on the subject that lie had not quite 
lost sight of it. And he undoubtedly gives us the best information about 
Median history. Now of this information the account he gives of the 
end of the Assyrian monarchy i* an integral part. In my judgment it is 
by far the most trustworthy. He affirms with the utmost distinctness 
that the Median king Kyaxares. to avenge his father. Phraortes, w bo had 
fallen in the struggle with Assyria, attacked Nineveh, and was impeded 



FALL OF NINEVEH. 83 

time Xcnophon was told by the natives of the country that 
the city would have been able to defend itself, but was de- 
terred from doing so by signs from heaven, the lightnings of 
the Most High God. A still later account is that, in conse- 
quence of the advantages won by the hostile forces of Baby- 
lonians and Medes in their advance against Nineveh, the king 
of the latter, Sarakos, burned himself in his citadel. This ver- 
sion afterwards led to a repetition, with embellishments, of 
the old legend of Sardanapalns. Apart from their miraculous 
accessories, the one circumstance in which all these accounts 
agree is that Assyria was overthrown by the combination of 
the Medes and Babylonians. Everything else that is said on 
the subject verges on the fabulous; and even the fact of the 
alliance is doubtful, since Herodotus, who lived nearest to the 
period we are treating of, knows nothing of it, and ascribes 
the conquest simply to the Medes. We shall return shortly 
to the combination of circumstances which brought about the 
fall of the Assyrian empire ami the rise of that of the Medes, 
events on which the progress of universal history depends. 

At present we must confine ourselves to the Babylonians, 
who, being delivered by the fall of Nineveh from the tyr- 
anny of the Assyrians, continued on their own account the 
part played by Assur in Western Asia. Here they were su- 
preme. Nebuchadnezzar, relying upon his hereditary title 
and the support of the priestly caste, may be regarded as the 
principal founder of the Chakheo-Baby Ionian empire. But 
lie experienced opposition on the side of Egypt. Among 
those subject kings whom the Assyrians had established in 
Egypt the descendants of the first Necho assumed, after the 
fall of Nineveh, the position of independent sovereigns. 
Even in the lifetime of Assurbanipal, Psammetichns, the son 
of Necho, had taken steps in this direction, especially through 
his alliance with Lydia. The intention was, however, most 

in the siege by the inroad of the Scythians (i. 103) ; but that, as soon as 
ho had disencumbered himself, in a very horrible manner, of the chief 
leaders of the Scythians, he directed his arms against Nineveh and con- 
quered it. and reduced the whole of Assyria with the exception of Baby- 
lonia. Of any share taken by the Babylonians in the conquest of Nineveh 
Herodotus knows nothing. 



84 1TBB AND ASSUR 

unmistakably manifested in the son of Psammetiohus, the 
second Necho, a prince whoso general policy opened np 
a now path for the later history of Egypt, His efforts, by 
bringing him into alliance with Phoenicians and with Greeks. 
brought about a universal tendency in the direction of com- 
merce and culture. The viceregal authority over Philistia 
being at the same time intrusted to him, he turned Ids 
whole power against Syria. It was here that Babylon and 
Egypt, each making strenuous advances in power, came into 
collision. 

S smaller kingdoms, which were just raising their heads 
again, were under the unhappy necessity of making their 
choice between joining one or the other of these two powers. 
The situation was a momentous one for the kingdom of Ju- 
dah. We can understand how it is that an occurrence with 
which only painful memories were connected is not found 
treated in the Book of Kings with that detail from which we 
might have gained an insight into the motives and the vicis- 
situdes by which the course of events was determined. We 
can discover no more than that Judah under King Josiah had 

3ed the progress of the Egyptian Pharaoh, who desired 
free passage through the province of dudiva, but that at the 
firsl encounter near "Mvgiddo, Josiah was defeated and lost 
his life. Hereupon Necho became master of Jerusalem. He 
established a king who was compelled to serve the Egyptians, 
as formerly the Samaritan king. Menahem, had served the 
Assvrians. by exacting money from Ids subjects to support 
the conquerors in their enterprises. In these, however, the 
died. 
Near Carchemish, Xeeho was conquered by young Xebu- 
chadnesxar, so that the preponderance of power was trans- 

I from the Egyptians to the Babylonians, and Nebucbad- 

r became the rnosl powerful prince in "W - \- . 

* Prom a record dei itself wo lean that Nebuchad- 

tther bad died mean* the kingdom from the 

band of theCnaldmns,irha had U tor him (Berosos ftp. Joseph. . 

•x. 11,1 j CL Mailer, - ¥ i B s*. Giwc" ii p. 50$, n. 14} 

The monarchy was, according to this, i kind of propertj of the 

Mid the principal person amongst the Chaldnans resigned 11 - 



NEBUCHADNEZZAR. S5 

Ho is compared by the prophet to a lion breaking forth from 
his thicket and turning the land into a wilderness, or, again, 
to an eagle spreading out his wings over Moab, irresistible, 
that is, whether in defence or offence. Once more the princes 
of Tyre and Stdon combine with each other and with the 
king of Judah to resist the Babylonians. Nebuchadnezzar in- 
quires of his gods whither he shall next direct his arms, and 
at their direction besieges Jerusalem. Josephus* relates that 
Neoho made an attempt to relieve Jerusalem, and it is indis- 
putable that, the magnates and the people, as well as the king 
himself, were inclined towards Egypt, whilst the prophet Jere- 
miah saw in the ascendency of Babylon the will of Qod. 
Jerusalem was taken, the king made captive and carried 
away, and with him a great number of the principal Jews, es- 
pecially of the men-at-arms, together with such artisans as 
were most useful in war, to the number of several thousand. f 
It was Nebuchadnezzar's chief concern to disarm Judah, 
which had shown itself so hostile to him, together with its 
capital, lie established anew king, Zedekiah, but bound him 
to maintain the whole province for him, the king of Label, 
and to allow no Egyptian tendencies to find expression. But 
Zedekiah falls under the influence of the multitude, and is 
warned by the prophets Ezekiel and Jeremiah. As. however, 
their prophecies do not exactly agree, he rejects them both. 
and forms an alliance with the Egyptians, in the hope of 
overthrowing Babylon with their aid. Hereupon Nebuchad- 
nezzar invades Jiuhva, conquers the fortresses, and besieges 
Jerusalem. The king of Egypt advances to its relief; the 
Babylonian king attacks and defeats him. The withdrawal 
of the Babylonian king with his army gives encouragement 
to the opinion that he will undertake nothing further against 

speak, to Nebuchadnezzar. As tar as the essential t'aet is concerned, 
it makes no difference that the chronology cannot be exactly harmo- 
nized. 

•Joseph.. •• Antiq." x. 7. & I follow by preference the account in Jo- 
sephus, who. if appearances are not altogether deceptive, had access here 
to special sourees of information. 

t Jeremiah v lii. 38) reckons only 300° ; in 2 Kings xxiv. 14 the number 
is given as 10.000. 



8G TYRE AND ASSUR. 

Jerusalem, but will even restore the precious furniture which 
he has taken from the Temple. Jeremiah protests against 
these idle dreams, and with justice, for in a short time Nebu- 
chadnezzar returns to the siege of Jerusalem. According to 
the method introduced by the Assyrians, lie encloses the city 
with a mound, and at last makes a breach in the walls. The 
city is visited by hunger and pestilence at the same time. 
Under these circumstances the king takes to flight. Near 
Jericho, however, he is overtaken ; he is brought to a formal 
trial, and in accordance with the sentence his children are 
slaughtered before his e} T es. This is the last sight he is al- 
lowed to behold ; he is then blinded and led in chains to Bab- 
ylon. A month afterwards the Temple and the royal palace 
are burned by the Chaldogans. What David and Solomon had 
created seemed to be annihilated forever. Upon this followed 
more compulsory emigrations. Whether, however, a depor- 
tation of the whole people really took place is not so certain 
as is commonly supposed. We only learn that no one was 
left behind except such as were absolutely necessary for the 
cultivation of the land or of the vineyards. 

The causes which led to this catastrophe were not, properly 
speaking, of a religious nature. The conflicting influences of 
the two neighboring powers were so strong that they led to 
a division in Jerusalem itself. The kings were always re- 
newing their alliance with Egypt; the prophets were in favor 
of Babylon. In the midst of this dissension, itself the effect 
of the general situation, the kingdom of Judah was destroyed. 
It was, however, in the end, the opposition between Baal and 
Jehovah which decided the collapse of the Jewish monarchy. 
Baal was lord of Western Asia, and his present champion, 
Nebuchadnezzar, was armed at all points. In Jerusalem, on 
the other hand, there was nothing but discord. Even the 
prophets, firmly attached as they were to Jehovah, acknowl- 
edged to themselves without illusion the superior power of 
Babylon, and recommended a peaceful arrangement. The 
observance of the conditions imposed by Nebuchadnezzar 
would not have run counter to their feelings. But the kings, 
and with them the greater part of the people, leaned towards 
Egypt, which nevertheless was too weak to save them. 



THE BABYLONIAN CAPTIVITY. 87 

If all appearances are not fallacious, it was only the upper 
classes who were led into captivity in Babylon. In this cir- 
cumstance, however, we recognize the foundation for a reac- 
tion ; for it was in these classes that the ideas which belonged 
to the early days of Israel had struck the deepest roots, de- 
riving strength and consistency in the last epoch, especially 
under King Josiah, from the (Struggle with the encroaching 
idolatries. These classes would not improbably maintain 
their integrity, even when removed from Jerusalem, now 
despoiled of all political power, and transported by the con- 
queror to some of his other provinces. It was in misfortune 
that the indestructible power of faith asserted itself most un- 
mistakably. The captives celebrated the great days of disas- 
ter as days of penitence. They went back in memory to 
Abraham, who alone, among all their leaders, had never been 
untrue to his God. They gathered up their articles of faith, 
and imparted to them a depth and purity never known before, 
whilst they looked forward to the deliverance which they soon 
obtained. 

After the taking* of Jerusalem, Nebuchadnezzar turned 
his arms against Phoenicia. Only Tyre offered any opposi- 
tion, and it is not clear whether he reduced it or not. "We 
are told that the siege lasted thirteen years, f Nebuchadnezzar 

* The destruction of the Temple is placed in the second Book of Kings 
(xxv. 8), and also by the prophet Jeremiah (lii. 12), in the nineteenth year 
of Nebuchadnezzar. As Nebuchadnezzar, according to the Ptolemaic 
canon, ascended the throne of Babylon in the year G04, we must place 
the destruction in the year 580. That this supposition is in accordance 
with the calculation of thirty-seven years for the imprisonment of Jehoi- 
achim has been shown by Brandis, " Abhandlungen zur Gcschichte des 
Orients im Alterthum," p. 80 sq. The passage of Clemens Alexandrinus, 
quoted also by Eusebius, belongs to the comparative chronology of later 
times, the data for which we cannot more exactly determine. 

f Was it, however, the ancient or the insular Tyre ? There are no 
traces of maritime undertakings, such as would have been necessary 
against the latter. It is nowhere recorded that Tyre was conquered. It 
is possible that Tyre once more acknowledged the supremacy of Baby- 
lon; even this, however, cannot be positively affirmed. The maritime 
power of Tyre was at this time most flourishing and most widely extend- 
ed. If an event like this had succeeded such prosperity, it would have 
been recorded with greater distinctness. 



ss TYRE AND ASSTJR. 

next attacked and subdued Amnion and Moah. According 
to an account which conies to us with exceptional distinct- 
ness,* he himself penetrated even into Egypt, and carried 

as captives to Babylon the Israelites who had taken refuge 
there. All these actions, however, are but parts of a single de- 
sign — the annihilation of Egyptian influence in "Western Asia. 

The cuneiform inscriptions of this period, are not of histor- 
ical import, like the Assyrian, but have reference only to the 
building works of the king. " The Temple of the Founda- 
tion of the Earth," says the king, "the Tower of Babylon, I 
erected and completed, and covered it with a pointed roof of 
tiles and copper." lie feels himself urged by the god him- 
self to restore the Temple of the Seven Lamps of the Earth, 
which had fallen into ruins. " On a day of good omen," 
says he, " I improved the bricks of its building and the tiles 
of its roof, and made it into masonry firmly joined together." 
Hitherto the temple had been without a cupola : this was 
erected by Nebuchadnezzar. 

His history became the subject of legend. The Jewish ac- 
count, in Daniel, says he was expelled from human society, 
and ate grass. Quite different is the Greek tradition, which 
relates that he became greater than Hercules, that he pushed 
as far as Libya, the Pillars of Hercules, and Iberia, and that 
he transplanted the Iberians to the shores of the Black Sea. 
Then he is said, to have been possessed by a god. and on one 
occasion to have mounted the battlements oi his palace, and 
thence prophesied to the Babylonians their destruction, after 
which he disappeared. 

* It is found in Joseph., " Antiq." x. 0. and has hitherto boon rejected. 
But in a hieroglyphic inscription known to Athanasius Kircher, a dep- 
uty in Elephantine of the time of the Pharaoh Hophra boasts of having 
defeated an army of "the Syrians, the Northmen, the Asiatics," which 
had invaded Egypt; and this can bo no other than the army of Nebu- 
chadnezzar, who is assumed to have pushed as far as Syene, Cff. Alfred 
Wiedemann, " Geschichte Aegyptens von Psammetsch bis auf Alexander 
don Grossen," p. 168 sq.; ami in the Zeitaehrift f&r 
und AtterthumakuntU, 1878, p. 4 sq. and p. SO. According to a Baby- 
lonian inscription, the campaign of Nebuchadnezzar against Egypt falls 
in the thirty-seventh year of his reign, i. o. b.c 568 (Schroder, in the 
1879, p. 46 sq.). 



Chapter IV. 

THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

I now return to the overthrow of the Assyrian and the 
foundation of the Medo-Persian kingdom, events so closely 
connected that they may be regarded as one. They are 
known to us only very imperfectly, but are perhaps capable 
of being made clearer by a general survey. 

It might seem to be a misuse of terms to regard a king- 
dom like the Assyrian, which owed its growth to acts of vio- 
lence of all kinds, as forming a real epoch in the culture of 
the human race. Yet such is the case. Through the events 
and complications that preceded its rise a certain degree of 
civilization had already been attained. There existed station- 
ary peoples, with definite frontiers, maintaining themselves 
in spite of constant conflicts with each other ; institutions 
under the sanction of law, the necessary condition of social 
life ; religious systems, in the midst of which the idea of 
monotheism was firmly maintained, still under local forms, 
indeed, but all-embracing in its ultimate scope ; a literature 
by which the primary elements of all tradition have been col- 
lected in one incomparable work, and at the same time con- 
temporary occurrences, although recorded only from a single 
point of view, have been preserved to posterity ; and an ar- 
tistic development which, devoted to the service of religion, 
created monuments of such magnitude and intrinsic impor- 
tance that they have always been the admiration of posterity, 
and have roused them to emulation. This world, containing, 
as it did, the groundwork of all human civilization, fell under 
the Assyrian monarch}' in the natural course of events, As- 
syria herself sharing in the general development. In the 
ruins of Nineveh works have been found exhibiting a high 
degree of technical perfection, whilst the religion of Nineveh 



QO THE MEDO-FERS1AN KINGDOM. 

was only one particular and corrupt form of the Baal-wor- 
ship, the metropolis o( which the Assyrian kings were espe- 
cially proud oi' possessing and governing as a separate king- 
dom attached to their own. Whilst they drew power to them- 
selves from every quarter, they protected the civilized world 
from the encroachment of alien elements. If we seek a general 
explanation of the collapse of Assyria in the actual circum- 
stances of her history, we shall find it in the fact that she at 
last ceased to discharge this function. The independent ten- 
dencies o( the separate nations and races were controlled, but 
not suppressed; at every change o( dynasty they reappeared. 
It is ipiite inconceivable that a power which owed its ascen- 
dency simply to its superiority in the arts of war could give 
contentment to the nations which it ruled. Still less could it 
he expected that the capital which was the chief seat of the 
religion o( Egypt would seriously submit to the worship o( As- 
sur. Princes, again,such as G-yges, accustomed to be obeyed 
by the Greeks of Asia Minor, were little likely entirely to 
resign their own independence, least o^i all when the Assyrian 
monarchy was no longer able to protect them against other 
barbarians. 

At this epoch Cimmerian and Scythian tribes were advanc- 
ing— the former in Western, the latter in Upper, Asia — car- 
rying devastation in their train. Their origin, their relation 
to their neighbors, the course and the effect of their inroads, 
remain, as far as I can discover, still unsolved problems. Yet, 
from the most ancient account, we can recognize the character 
^( the movement; it arose from hostile collisions between 
barbarian races still in the process of migration, one pushing 
the Other from the regions it was occupying. The Scythi- 
ans, thus hard pressed by the MassagetfiB, pushed forward, in 
their turn, against the Cimmerians. The kings v( the Cim- 
merians and their immediate adherents called upon their sub- 
jects to defend their territory. But this was not at all in 
accordance with the practice of these nations. The Cimmeri- 
ans were inclined to continue their migratory life as hereto- 
fore, and carried out. this intention in a war, which, it ap- 
pears, was connected with a dissolution of the polity they 
had hitherto maintained. Their princes were slain, and, re- 



LYDIA AND MEDIA. 91 

lieved of their restraint, the Cimmerians penetrated from the 
shores of the Euxine into Asia. The Scythians, however, 
were not contented with the district thus resigned to them. 
The impetus once imparted carried them farther; they made 
successful inroads in Upper Asia, where, for a considerable 
period, they ruled supreme. The conflicting elements are 
clearly marked ; we find nomadic nations effecting an inroad 
into regions which arc already what may properly be called a 
civilized world — districts, that is, with a settled population, 
in which social progress has made a beginning, and in which 
some advance has been made towards a peaceful existence 
resting on the support of laws. 

If, then, the Assyrians exercised the supreme power in 
these regions, on them devolved the duty of averting these 
attacks, and, accordingly, we find that it was from the Assyr- 
ians that G-yges of Lydia sought protection, binding him- 
self for the sake of it to a kind of subjection. But Assur- 
banipal was far too busily engaged in quelling successive 
waves of insurrection to be able to secure the frontiers of 
Lydia, and the Cimmerians and the Scythians overran that 
country. We find them in Asia Minor, and the check they 
received at Ephesus is ascribed to the goddess of that city. 
They continued to press on, even as far as Philistia, where 
one of those Egyptian sovereigns who had risen to power as 
subject kings of the Assyrians, Psammetichus, the son of the 
first Necho, contrived by paying them a sort of tribute to 
save the Delta from a desolating invasion. The defence was 
thus really made by the subordinate powers, and the Lydi- 
ans gained in consequence reputation and respect. Besides 
Psammetichus, we find the prince of Cilicia mentioned as 
the ally of the Lydians. The Scythians, taking another di- 
rection, encountered the opposition of Media, then growing 
into a state and engaged in war with Assyria. The Median 
king, Kyaxares (Uvakshatara), was overthrown by them; but, 
quietly and gradually collecting his forces together, he con- 
trived, after destroying the leaders of the Scythians, under 
the pretence o( friendship, to make himself master of the na- 
tion itself. Assyria, if not already too far gone to interfere 
decisively, at any rate neglected to do so. 



02 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

Lydia and Media, which had done the greatest service in 
the defence against the barbarians, now went to war with 
each other, the Lydians ascribing the inroad of the Scythians 
to the Medes themselves. The armies of the two powers met 
on the banks of the Ilalys. The battle, however, was inter- 
rupted by a natural phenomenon which both sides interpret- 
ed as an intimation from the gods counselling them to peace; 
this was the eclipse of the sun which took place on Septem- 
ber 30, b.c. 610. Such an event ought scarcely to have been 
needed to remind the two kings that it was their interest to 
abstain from tearing each other to pieces, and to spend all 
their strength in opposing the common enemy. The two 
princes, Alyattes and Kyaxares, made a close family alliance. 
Their friendship was an indispensable preliminary to further 
defence against barbarians. Some years afterwards these in- 
vaders were actually compelled to abandon Asia. 

Nineveh could now make no further opposition to the re- 
bellious Medes, strengthened as they were by the success of 
their resistance to the Scythians. That city fell into their 
hands about the year GOG. Whether the Babylonians lent 
them any assistance is, as we have already mentioned, very 
doubtful ; but there is no doubt that they were allies of Ky- 
axares. The enterprises in Western Asia which Ave have men- 
tioned could not have otherwise taken place. In Upper Asia, 
on the other hand, the Medes were supreme, and, after the 
brief interval of the Scythian inroad, they assumed the posi- 
tion of masters of the world. Inroads of this kind, which 
threaten with destruction the civilization so painfully acquired, 
have been from time to time repeated. Amongst the latest 
were the invasions of the Magyars, which harassed the Carlo- 
vingian empire in the tenth century of our era. Kyaxares 
may be regarded as the unconscious prototype of the German 
Henry I., who, by the check he gave to the Magyars, made 
the Saxons supreme in Germany. 

If, however, we confine ourselves to the relations between 
nation and nation in the seventh and eighth centuries before 
our era, we find, if I mistake not, a general combination be- 
tween the several races of humanity. Although the chief 
elements of which Assyria was composed belonged essen- 



KISE OF THE MEDES. 93 

tially to tlie Semitic stock, that empire was so extensive that 
it everywhere reached beyond the limits of the Semitic na- 
tionalities. The subjugation of Egypt is an instance in point. 
Ethiopians and Libyans, the Greeks in Cyprus and on the 
shores of the Mediterranean generally, as well as the Medo- 
Persian races, who belonged again to a different nationality and 
religion, were all disturbed and partially subjugated by As- 
syria. The Medes and Persians belonged to an eastern group 
of nations, the Greeks to the tribes which peopled the West. 
If we go back to those prehistoric times, the existence of 
which we infer from comparative philology, both must be 
counted among the Indo-Germanic nations, and clearly dis- 
tinguished from the Semitic world, which has just been mak- 
ing an attempt to overpower those branches of the Indo- 
Germanic family. "Whether an accommodation would be 
arranged between the active elements of the Semitic world 
and the Grecian, as well as the Medo-Persian elements settled 
in its immediate neighborhood, was one of the problems of 
universal history. Both sides, however, came into conliict 
with nations belonging to the third section of the primeval 
races of mankind. The inroad of the Scythians, who are of 
Mongolian stock, menaced with destruction the Semitic world 
as it was then united under the sceptre of the Assyrian kings. 
They were repulsed, not by the Assyrians, but by the Medes. 
In the struggle the latter came into conflict with neighboring 
nations, such as the Lydians, among whom again Semitic ele- 
ments can be recognized. It is the Medes who at length se- 
cure the civilized world, as we may already call it, against 
that inroad. 

We find in the inscriptions of the kings of Assyria frequent 
mention of their enterprises against Media and its incessant 
resistance, as well as of wars against the Parsua, who refuse to 
acknowledge the god Assur. In these undertakings the As- 
syrians always figure as victorious, and we may at least with 
certainty infer from this that till the last quarter of the sev- 
enth century no independent power had established itself in 
these regions. 

As to the manner, however, in which such a power was 
first formed by the Medes, and how this was succeeded by a 



94 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

union between the Modes and the Persians, we possess nothing 
but legendary accounts. These, as preserved to us through 
the Greeks, bear quite a different stamp from that of the 
Oriental records. The narrative which Herodotus gives of 
Deiokes and the origin of the Median kingdom is no more 
than an ingenious and well-invented legend. Its peculiar 
feature is that it traces the origin of the monarchy not to 
anus, elsewhere the invariable road to success, but to that 
other attribute of the supreme power, the administration of 
justice. The most just man was chosen to be chief ruler by 
free election, and, in order to bestow a higher authority upon 
him than upon the rest of his race, a fortress was built for 
him, in which he took up his residence. Whilst the people of 
Israel had demanded a king, primarily to go before them to 
battle, and in the second place to administer right and jus- 
tice, it was the latter object which, according to the legend, 
was the principal one in Media; the fortress is, in fact, built 
as a defence against foreign molestation. No one will be- 
lieve in the literal correctness of this account. All that it 
proves is that the tradition in Media premised other than 
the usual motives. It is very possible that the names 
Deiokes and Astyages are rather appellatives than personal 
names. On the other hand, Kyaxares, who successfully 
achieved the defence against the Scythian and the conquest 
of Nineveh, is an indisputably historical character. The 
process, however, by which the supremacy which he obtained 
was transferred to the Persians and extended in "Western 
Asia is again the subject of legendary narratives, which can- 
not possibly be accepted in the form in which they are pre- 
served. 

As the agent by whom this transfer was accomplished 
appears the mighty form of Cyrus (Curu, Cores), disguised 
indeed in legendary traits, and at a later time exalted to the 
gods, but yet recognizable as an historical figure. Of the 
history given of his youth, according to which he was nearly 
related to the Median king Astyages, a circumstance which 
imperilled the very first moments of his existence, perhaps 
the only part which belongs to the original Persian myth is 
that the founder of the Persian empire was suckled by a 



CYRUS. 95 

bitch, as the founder of the Roman empire was by a she- 
wolf. A national stamp is also impressed upon the story of 
his rise to power. In this story Cyrus, himself a member of 
the principal Persian tribe, the Pasargadse, and of the princi- 
pal family in that tribe, the Achsemenida?, gathers the Per- 
sians round him and rouses them to a consciousness of their 
position. First of all, by compulsory labor of the baser kind, 
he displays the servile condition in which they are content to 
live; then, by a splendid entertainment, he introduces them 
to the sweets of power which are within their reach. Dis- 
gust at the first stimulates them to an eager endeavor to 
achieve the second. On the other hand, it may be regarded 
as an originally Median tradition that it was the alliance of 
Median kings with the young Persian, who claimed the throne 
by hereditary right, which brought about the defeat of the 
king of Media and the transference of his power to Cyrus. 
According to this view, Cyrus, in the closest alliance with the 
Medes, although himself of a different nationality and relig- 
ion, founds a Medo-Persian monarchy in the place of the As- 
syrian. A rich garland of legend adorns his struggle with 
the Lydians, in which he continued the work of Kyaxares, 
conquered Croesus, king of Lydia, and made Sardis the seat 
of a Persian satrapy. lie then proceeds to the conquest of 
Babylon. The legend unites details which are simply m} T th- 
ical, the distribution, for example, of a river into 360 canals, 
with an exploit which verges on the incredible, the seizure of 
the defences which the Babylonians had erected for their cap- 
ital in connection with the irrigation system of the Euphrates. 
Prudent generalship and w r onderful success are combined in 
the person of Cyrus : this is the essential truth which the 
legend yields us. Cyrus became master of the whole region 
which Nebuchadnezzar had held in subjection, but was not a 
worshipper of the deities whom Assyria and Babylon had op- 
posed to the religion of Jehovah. 

The fact that the Persian, the votary of monotheism, puts 
an end to the exile of the Jews, who believe in Jehovah, and 
lets them return to Jerusalem, has its political as well as its 
religious aspect. The influence of the Assyrians settled in 
Canaan is now counterbalanced by a community immediately 



96 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

established by the king himself, and unreservedly devoted to 
him, which secures for him the possession of Western Asia. 
Then Cyrus turns his arms against those enemies who had 
formerly shaken the Assyrian empire to its foundations, es- 
pecially against the Massagetffi. It was they who had, from 
beyond the Jaxartes, driven the Scythians, a race of kindred 
stock, to make the expedition alluded to above. We dare 
not attempt to repeat the marvellous narrative of Herodotus. 
It is the less necessary to do so because there are other tra- 
ditions which, though diverging in details, agree in the main 
fact that the great conqueror did not return from this cam- 
paign.* Legend invents no facts and describes no characters; 
it only seizes upon the principal enterprises, and enhances 
their success or failure by embellishments of a correspond- 
ing color. The Scythians remained unsubdued, but at the 
same time desisted from further inroads into the Persian em- 
pire. We need only pay attention to the main facts, which 
are undeniably historical. The general result is that through 
the Medo-Persian power Cyrus infused new life into the As- 
syrian empire, and thus in a certain sense restored it, whilst 
he discarded the religious violence which the Assyrians and 
Babylonians had exercised. He introduced into the mon- 
archy a trait which distinguishes it from despotism. 

Nevertheless the universal empire was not yet united, as it 
had been under Esarhaddon or Assurbanipal. Cambyses, son 
of Cyrus, boasted that he was greater than his father, per- 
haps because he acquired Egypt also, and obtained maritime 
supremacy. He conquered Egypt with the assistance of the 
Arabians, and thus made his approach by way of the desert, 



* The death of Cyrus falls in the year 529, the conquest of Babylon 
nine years earlier, i. e. 538. Solinus(c. 112) places the capture of Sardis 
in (he 58th Olympiad, Eusebius (ap. HieronJ in the first year of this 
Olympiad, i. e. 549 n.c. Herodotus (1. 214) makes Cyrus reign for twenty- 
nine years after his victory over Astyages, so that, the latter event is to be 
assigned to the year 558. Eusebius gives Cyrus a reign of thirty years 
from the fall o\' Astyages (i. e. in the Canon ; thirty-one years in theChro- 
QOgraphy), Thirty years is the period assigned also by Ctesias, Dinon 
(ap. Midler, " Frag. Hist. Gr»C." ii. p. 91, frgt 10), and Trogus Pompeius 
(ap. Justin, i. 8, 14). 



CAMBYSES. 97 

as an Assyrian and perhaps also a Babylonian king, in antag- 
onism to the Greeks, upon whom the Pharaohs of that time 
placed more reliance than on the power of their own king- 
dom. We can scarcely repeat what the Greek legend, as 
given by Herodotus, tells us of Cambyscs. This story repre- 
sents him as a despiser of the Egyptian religion, and makes 
him give the god Apis, on his reappearance in his animal 
form, a wound in the shank, of which the animal dies. But 
we find an Egyptian monument on which he is represented 
making supplication to Apis,* and an inscription belonging 
to a high official who was his contemporary affirms circum- 
stantially that the king spared the Egyptian worship, and 
even promoted its interests. According to this we should 
have to regard him as an opponent of innovations attempted 
by the Assyrian kings in Egypt, as his father had been of 
those in Judrea. 

The account of his enterprises against the long-lived Ethio- 
pians and the Ammonians rests upon a better historic founda- 
tion. The monuments attest that the Persians made inva- 
sions in both directions. Mcroe itself was conquered by Cam- 
byscs, and perhaps restored and renovated. Again, on the 
way towards the temple of Amnion we find traces of the Per- 
sian domination. The narrative only gives in general terms 
the limits of their expeditions; the more remote goals may 
have been aimed at, but were never reached. The Persian 
supremacy on the Mediterranean also was not unlimited. We 
hear that the Phoenicians declined to let their navy be em- 
ployed in an attack upon Carthage. There, accordingly, one 
centre of the Semitic dominion by sea maintained itself in 
complete independence. In short, limits were set to the Per- 
sian empire towards the west as well as towards the north. 
We find the Assyrian empire annihilated at a single blow, and 



* The account Herodotus gives of the death of Cambyses is of very 
doubtful credit, from the fact that he has connected it with the slaughter 
of Apis ; if the one is incorrect, the other must be equally so. In the 
same way Ids account of the death of Smcrdis cannot be maintained, since 
we learn from evidence which admits of no doubt that this took place 
even before the march of Cambyses into Egypt. 

7 



98 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

after a brief interval the Persian empire in the ascendant. 
The sequence of the events is obscure, and every detail comes 
to us in a legendary form. 

The main fact is that in the second half of the sixth cent- 
ury, after the Assyrian empire had suddenly disappeared, a 
Medo-Persian empire rose upon its ruins, and far surpassed it 
in dimensions. It was of essential importance, if the nations 
were to be held together under one rule, that the centre of the 
universal monarchy should be moved farther towards the east. 
From their principal seats in Iran the Persian monarchy ex- 
tended to India. It is impossible to speak of a conquest of 
the world by the Persians in the strict sense of the word. 
Power had fallen into the hands of the Medo-Persians through 
the capture of a single city. The Lydians had before this 
been subject to Assyria; if Babylon had to be reconquered, 
its independence was of late date ; while the conquest of 
Egypt was but the renewal of the dominion which the As- 
syrians had lost a short time before. The Persians passed be- 
yond the old frontier simply by associating their own native 
land with the empire, although it is true that this brought 
with it the accession of certain regions of India and opened 
the way towards the east. 

When, however, we take into consideration the constant 
revolts made by towns or districts in the assertion of their in- 
dependence even under the Assyrians, revolts only suppressed 
by the exertion of superior force, and then consider further 
the natural difficulties which hindered the maintenance of su- 
preme power over all these distinct provinces, it becomes ob- 
vious at once what consequences were involved by the sudden 
collapse of the dominant family, which had only just risen to 
power. This family was a branch, the elder branch, of the 
Achsemenidae. The event which brought prominently forward 
the great question connected with it was the crime of Cam- 
byses, who, with the jealousy of a despot, put to death his own 
brother. How the occurrence was explained in Egypt appears 
from the narrative of Herodotus, who could but repeat what 
he was told. It was said that Cambyses, jealous of the bodily 
strength of his brother, sent him home from Egypt, and sub- 
sequently, warned by a dream, gave orders to slay him ; but, 



DEATH OF CAMBYSES. 99 

instead of the news of his brother's death, came, on the con- 
trary, the tidings that all the people were joining him. As- 
sured that the murder had really been accomplished, Camby- 
ses set himself in motion with his Egyptian army to suppress 
the insurrection which had broken out under the pretext that 
his brother was still alive. But at the outset of the campaign 
he accidentally inflicted upon himself a wound of the same 
kind as that by which he had slain Apis, and of tin's wound 
he died soon afterwards. This, however, could not be true if, 
so far from destroying Apis, he had paid him homage. The 
whole story rests upon fable and hearsay. The name Cam- 
byses is, and will remain forever, a kind of symbol of all the 
abominations of an odious tyranny. But the connection of 
events related in his history, as delivered to the Greeks, and 
by them to the world, cannot be maintained. 

Happily we have a Persian inscription, far superior to those 
of the Assyrians in completeness of detail, though otherwise 
resembling them in form, from which we derive better in- 
formation as to the course of events. It is the first document 
in Persian history which makes us feel that we are upon firm 
ground. Like the Assyrian inscriptions, it is drawn up in the 
name of the king. From this inscription we learn that Cam- 
byses had destroyed his brother even before his enterprise 
against Egypt, but that the crime was kept a secret. As soon 
as it became known there was a universal commotion, especi- 
ally in the army. The word which signifies "army" may 
also stand for the state. Both alike were exposed to danger 
if there were only a single scion of the family to which they 
were attached. It has been doubted whether by the army is 
meant that division of it which went with Cambyses to Egypt 
or the other which remained behind. There is no apparent 
reason why it may not have been both. In the conflict that 
ensued Cambyses died by his own hand.* 

* The passage in the inscription at Bisitun which refers to the death 
of Cambyses has been very variously translated. In Benfey the trans- 
lation runs, " Cambubiya died of excessive rage." Others suppose that he 
killed himself, but think this may be reconciled with the account of He- 
rodotus, as it is not said he slew himself intentionally. Kossowicz has 
" a-sc-allata-sibi-morte decessit." On the other hand, it may be objected 



L. •' C 



100 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

The consequence of this was that the question of the suc- 
cession, which had excited the tumult among the troops, en- 
tered upon a stage in which it assumed its full importance ; 
for the power of the AchsemenidaB depended upon the rela- 
tionship existing between the ruling family of the Persians 
and that of the Medes, a consideration of no light importance. 
Although it has not seldom happened that nations which 
have been conquered have tried to find a kind of consolation 
in discovering for their new prince ties of descent connecting 
him with the old dynasty, it is an experience even more com- 
mon that unions of an analogous kind have been formed with 
the express intention of alleviating the bitterness of the trans- 
fer from one dynasty to another. The powerful nation of 
the Medes would scarcely have brought themselves to submit 
to the Persians without some such union. With Cambyses, 
however, the line which could lay claim to the Median throne 
by right of descent came abruptly to an end. The Achaamen- 
ida?, though their race was still propagated in another line, 
had no part in this affinity, and so were excluded from all 
claim to continue the dynasty. On the other hand the Medes, 
in like manner, had no right to claim supremacy over the 
Persians. If they did so notwithstanding, it was only by as- 
suming a disguise. One of the Magians, who, it is to be re- 
membered, are a tribe of the Medes, gave himself out for a 
brother of Cambyses, expecting thus to be able to count upon 
the obedience of the Persians as well. This is the Pseudo- 
Smcrdis so universally known through the Greek tradition ; 

that where the self-destruction spoken of was not the result of delib- 
erate intention this is a fact which would need to be added even in 
the style proper to stone inscriptions, else it would be unintelligible to 
every one. In the inscription, for example, of Darius, amid all the varie- 
ties of translation, that an intentional and not an accidental suicide must be 
indicated admits of no doubt. We might even find in the action a touch 
of heroism, could we venture to assume that Cambyses, abandoned by his 
army and his people, destroyed himself in an access of despair. 

(Added in ed. 2.) According to a communication from Eberhard Schra- 
der, the Assvrio-Babylonic text of the inscription leaves no doubt of the 
fact that Cambyses died by suicide. He translates it, " After this Cam- 
byses died the death of himself." 



ACCESSION OF DARIUS. 101 

among the Persians he appears under the name Gaumata. 
It is perfectly true that he kept himself in strict retirement, 
in order not to be seen by any one who had known the 
younger son of Cyrus ; indeed, there is much generally in the 
Greek narratives which has the accent of truth. It is only 
the vicissitudes of the harem, the neighing horse, and the 
other pleasant histories with which the} 7 beguile the hearer or 
reader that we must hesitate to repeat after them ; and so 
also with the disquisitions on the best form of polity, which 
are said to have preceded the elevation of the new king to 
the throne. This king himself simply affirms that the Per- 
sians were convinced that the younger son of Cyrus had been 
murdered, and were not disposed to submit to the usurpation 
of the Magian. 

Among the Acha3menida3 there was a young man who was 
determined to assert his rights. Acting in concert with the 
chiefs of the six other Persian tribes, he forced his way into 
the palace of Gaumata and slew him.* It was, we may say, 
the combined act of all the Persians, the chiefs of their tribes 
uniting for the purpose. They were unwilling to be governed 
by any Median, least of all by one who did not scruple to do 
violence to their old institutions and usages, including even 
those of religion. Darius says in the inscription, " I took the 
kingdom from him, and restored it as it had existed before 
him. I was king." This violent occupation, however, brought 
the other side of the question into prominence. It remained 
to be seen whether the Medes would obey a Persian, and 
whether the other nations would acknowledge the supremacy 
of a usurper. 

The first to revolt were the Babylonians, who immediately 
before the reign of Cyrus had been in possession of complete 
independence. Almost the first act of the new government 
was a campaign undertaken by Darius against them. He 
found it no easy task to conquer them. They opposed him in 
his passage of the Tigris, and again in a pitched battle. The 

* Cambyses reigned seven years and five months, Pscudo-Smerdis eight 
months : the beginning of the reign of Darius Hystaspis falls in the year 
521. 



102 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

legend is that he was then compelled to undertake a long 
siege, in which he succeeded by a stratagem which more than 
verges on the incredible. He himself speaks only of his vic- 
tories, as the result of which he had taken the city and re- 
lieved himself of his principal antagonist, who falsely called 
himself king. Darius attributes much to the fact that Aura- 
mazda, his god, declared in his favor. What support relig- 
ion may have lent to his dynasty we shall not attempt to 
determine. But there are other circumstances which lead 
to the conclusion that the conquest of Babylon laid the 
foundation of the new supremacy. It rendered possible the 
fori nation of a new army, consisting of Modes as well as of 
Persians, which took up an invincible position in the midst 
of the insurrections that broke out in all quarters of the 
empire. 

Of all these insurrections the most important was beyond 
doubt that of Media, where Phraortcs, as a descendant of 
Kyaxarcs, the real founder of the Median monarchy, assumed 
the character of king. This brought to an issue the most im- 
portant of all the questions affecting the relationship between 
the dominant Median and Persian families, the question which 
of them should have possession of the crown and control of 
the army. The circumstance which, as the inscription notes, 
decided the issue was that the army, though composed both 
of Modes and Persians, was not misled or shaken by these con- 
flicting claims, but continued faithful to Darius. lie could 
even venture to commit the conduct of the war in Media to 
one of his principal lieutenants. Phraortcs, who had been 
recognized only in a portion of the country, was not in a con- 
dition to resist the veteran troops of Darius. lie was de- 
feated without much trouble (December 27, 521), and the vic- 
tors could quietly await the arrival of their king in Media. 
Darius arrived, and Phraortcs marched to encounter him in 
person. He was defeated, and retired with the most faithful 
of his followers to Eagha, where he fell into the hands of the 
troops of Darius and was brought before him. He then suf- 
fered the hideous punishment inflicted on a traitor. His 
tongue, ears, and nose were cut off, and he was shown in this 
condition to all the people; after that he was nailed to the 



INSURRECTIONS AGAINST DARIUS. 103 

cross in Ecbatana, whilst the most important of his adherents 
remained prisoners in the fortress there. 

In my opinion this is to be regarded as the decisive event 
in the competition for the crown. The claim of the Magian 
was in itself untenable, and its falsehood was barely concealed 
by a transparent fraud. It was a matter of far more serious 
import when a leader arose who derived his origin from 
Kyaxares : such a leader really represented the Median as op- 
posed to the Persian interest. That he was defeated was the 
achievement of an army, with the king at its head, composed 
of Modes as well as Persians. The conquests of Cyrus and 
Cambyses had only been preliminary steps; it was under 
Darius that the empire was for the first time firmly estab- 
lished. 

Close upon these events in Media follows a revolt in Sagar- 
tia, which was reckoned as belonging to Media. Here another 
presumed descendant of Kyaxares arose, only, however, to 
meet with the same fate as Phraortes : he was conquered, made 
prisoner, mutilated, and crucified. Phraortes had numerous 
adherents in Parthia and llyrcania. Vistacpa, or Ilystaspis, 
the father of Darius, marched against them and defeated them. 
Darius, however, considered it necessary, even when he had 
mastered Phraortes, to send Persian auxiliaries to his father 
from Ragha. These encountered the rebels in a victorious 
battle. "Then," says Darius, "the province was mine." 

An insurrection in Margiana was quelled by the satrap of 
Bactria. But Darius was not perfectly sure even of the people 
of Persia, since he did not belong to the line of the Achse- 
menidie which had ruled hitherto. In Persia arose a poten- 
tate who gave himself out as Bardija, the son of Cyrus, and 
actually found a following. The king sent a Medo-Persian 
army against him. The Modes had now to assist him to con- 
quer Persians. The new monarchy triumphed both over its 
Median and its Persian antagonists. But the false Bardija 
had been so powerful that he had been able to send an army 
to Arachosia against the army " which called itself that of 
King Darius." After his defeat and death in Persia his army 
in Arachosia could not maintain itself. Arachosia was sub- 
dued by Vivana, the general of Darius. This great conflict, 



10± THE MEDO -PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

which appears to have taken up an entire year, was accom- 
panied by an obstinate rising in Armenia, the task of subduing 
which was first intrusted by the king to an Armenian who 
had remained faithful to his service, and who was successful 
in overthrowing the insurgents in three separate engagements. 
But the standard of revolt was constantly raised anew; indeed, 
the situation would seem to have become more dangerous, 
since soon afterwards we find the Armenian army in Assyria. 
I )arius then sent against the insurgents a Persian, who inflicted 
a defeat upon them on December 15, 520. A second engage- 
ment followed in Armenia itself, in which the Persians main- 
tained their advantage. 

We may here note the difference between the Assyrian 
cuneiform inscriptions and the Persian. The former devote 
a greater amount of attention to their antagonists, and give 
more details concerning their preparations and subsidiary 
forces; the inscription of Darius contents itself with recount- 
ing the final results. Another difference is that Darius acts 
more through his generals, whilst the Assyrian kings, almost 
without exception, head their troops themselves. 

In this manner the provinces which formed the core of the 
Persian empire were brought into subjection, after a course 
of long and sanguinary wars, involving the destruction of 
these who resisted. The Achsemenid remained master of the 
field and in possession of the throne. The principal instru- 
ment in attaining this end was the Medo-Persian army, which, 
as far as we see, was organized immediately upon the death 
of the Magian, subjugated Babylon, and afterwards, upon the 
breaking -out of internal dissensions, remained faithful to 
Darius. The conflict is always one between two distinct 
armies, one of which acknowledges King Darius, and is some- 
times even attacked on that ground ; while the other, as the 
king says, refuses to be his army, and follows other leaders* 
When Darius, in relating his victories, avers upon each occa- 
sion that they fell to him through the grace of Auramazda, 
the meaning seems to be much the same as that of the declara- 
tion made, as we have seen, by Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal, 
that all their victories were to be ascribed to the god Assur. 
Yet in this case also there is a difference, the significance of 



THE PERSIAN RELIGION. 105 

which is unmistakable: for Assur and the goddess who for 
the most part is named with him arc warrior deities; Aura- 
ma/da is a god of justice and truth. Subjection means with 
the Assyrians subjugation by violence, with the Persians the 
fulfilment of a supreme will. That which most contributes 
to the elevation of Darius is that his opponents' claim was 
based on falsehood. The protection which Auramazda lends 
him he traces to the fact that he is the true king, before whom 
the kings of falsehood must needs be overthrown. This pre- 
mises that the supremacy had with justice fallen to the Achre- 
tnenidsB, and had been reached by the transition from the one 
line to the other, of which Darius, son of ITvstaspis, was the 
representative. Thus far he is the true king, and is recognized 
as such by Auramazda. This is the purport of the admoni- 
tion addressed by Darius to his successors upon the throne, to 
avoid all falsehood, never to show favor to any liar or traitor, 
for this would be to run counter to the conception of a true 
monarchy. Royal authority thus obtains a moral significance 
to which the whole structure of the kingdom and the state 
must be made to conform. 

This conception is most intimately connected with the view 
of the universe presented in the Persian religion. In the 
Zend-Avesta, the principal archive, as we must consider it, of 
that religion, much is found which accords with the mythol- 
ogy and the usages of ancient India. These conceptions, 
however, are by no means identical. It has been remarked 
that Ahura, the supreme god of the Persians, is converted in 
the Asura of the Hindus into an evil spirit, whilst, on the con- 
trary, the Devas of the Hindus become in the Diivas of the 
Persians evil spirits and ministers of Angro-mainyus. We 
do not venture to deny the identity of the two systems in 
prehistoric times, but we arc just as little disposed directly 
to assume it. In the epoch at which the two religions ap- 
pear historically side by side they certainly appear in antag- 
onism. The faith of the Hindus and the faith of the Per- 
sians may be brethren, but they are certainly hostile brethren. 
The special characteristic of the Persian religion consists in 
its dualism. 

If wc keep well iu view the contrasts between the various 



10G THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

districts and nations included within the limits of Persia and 
her provinces, the incessant struggle between the settled pop- 
ulations and the inhabitants of the steppes, between the cul- 
tivated regions and the desolation of the desert, thrust back, 
indeed, yet ever resuming its encroachments, the ideas of the 
Zend-Avesta will appear to us natural and, as we may term 
them, autochthonic. Auramazda is the god of the husband- 
man. The Vcndidad begins with a conversation between the 
sacred founder of the religion, Zarathustra,* whose personality 
is lost to us in myth, and Ormuzd, the god of the good, 
whose name here appears in the form Ahuramazda, in which 
the latter declares that when yet there was no habitable place 
he created an abode of beauty. " A creation of beauty, the 
first of created places, have I created ; the second one, destruc- 
tive to mankind, did Angro-mainyus contrariwise create." 
" The first and best of places and sites have I created, I that 
am Ahuramazda." It is, so to speak, a successive creation 
of the Iranian lands which Auramazda ascribes to himself. 
Among the names are found, in forms not difficult to recog- 
nize, Sogdiana, Merv, Bactria, Arachosia,Ragha in Media, prob- 
ably also Taberistan and India. To all this work Ahriman, 
full charged with death, opposes not only destructive creat- 
ures, such as huge serpents, deadty wasps, protracted winters, 
but also — and this is very remarkable — intellectual and moral 
hinderanccs, great doubts, idleness, with poverty in its train, 
inexpiable crimes, unnatural lust, and murder. 

The principal god, Ormuzd, is certainly revealed as creator 
of the w r orld and giver of all good ; but nowhere was the con- 
ception of evil so vivid as in the religion of the Zend. In 
the beginning, it is said in the Zend-Avesta, there were twins, 
the Spirits of Good and Evil. The creator of the world is the 
Spirit of Good, but is opposed by the destructive power of 
the Evil Spirit, Ahriman, almost as by an equal. There are, 
indeed, indications which would seem to show that, this view 
being found inadequate, the existence of a primordial Being, 

* It has been thought that the name Zoroaster can be recognized in 
this form. Zoroaster is, however, a figure at once religious and mythical, 
whose date can no longer be determined. His name has never been ex- 
plained; his native land is unknown. 



THE PERSIAN RELIGION. 107 

supreme over both principles, had been assumed. According 
to a passage in the Bundehesh this Being is Time, in which 
all things are developed ; and accordingly we find definite 
periods fixed for the struggle between Ahriman and Ormuzd. 
But this, at any rate, shows that a supreme intelligence, upon 
which everything depends, and which only permits the exist- 
ence of evil, was not assumed by the Persians. All created 
things are regarded as designed for the struggle against evil. 
What elsewhere manifested itself as the salutary power of 
nature is here regarded as a host of companions in arms in 
the service of Ahuramazda against the evil principle. Every- 
thing is part of the struggle between light and darkness, waged 
in the universe and upon earth. The Greeks remarked with 
astonishment that the deity was worshipped without image or 
altar, and that the sacrifice was nothing but the present of a 
gift. From Xenophon's "Cyropaedia" we see that they also 
recognized the moral impulse by which the Persian religion 
was inspired. In this, perhaps, we ought to recognize the 
distinctive character of the Persian dualism. Man is, or ought 
to be, the ally of Ahuramazda, and thus every virtue becomes 
for him a matter of duty. 

The object upon earth most pleasing to the deity is a wise 
man who brings his offering; next to this, a holy and well- 
ordered household, with all that belongs thereto ; third in 
order is the place where cultivation succeeds in producing the 
greatest quantity of corn, fodder, and fruit-bearing trees, 
where dry land is watered or marshy land is drained. The 
Egyptian religion is based upon the nature of the valley of 
the Nile, the Persian upon the agriculture of Iran. In the 
institutions of the sacred books which belong to a later epoch 
little is said of the monarchy.* But it is evident that a high 
position was assigned to it in the ancient times to which Da- 

* Yima, the Gemsdild of the later Persians, appears in the Zend-Avesta 
as the founder of orderly life and of agriculture. He regulates the earth, 
introducing the best trees and nutritive vegetation into different districts, 
bringing thither water supplies and establishing dwellings in them 
(Lassen, "Indische Altcrthumskunde," i. p. 518). If other nations wor- 
shipped the powers of nature, the Persian religion bound men to sub- 
jugate evil in the natural world. 



108 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

rius belonged. The king, who, although not established bv 
the Supreme God, is yet acknowledged by Him as the rightful 
monarch, is at the same time the champion of all good in op- 
position to evil ; he carries out the will of Auramazda. The 
whole kingdom is organized in this spirit, and the king, as 
the expression of the Divine Will, has, so to speak, a right to 
govern the world. Yet such a design could not have been 
entertained if the dualistic religion had already been crystal- 
lized into a system, and had to be violently forced upon the 
subject nations. So far was this from being the case, that, in 
the western regions of Iran, it is seen to be accessible to foreign 
influences derived from Mesopotamia. In Armenia the wor- 
ship of Anahit, originally akin to that of Astarte, prevailed. 
If, as Herodotus affirms, the Persians were of all nations the 
readiest to adopt foreign usages, it was impossible for them 
to persecute such usages from religious zeal. The Persian 
religion, which asserted such high claims for its king, was 
nevertheless tolerant of those local faiths which prevailed in 
the provinces of the empire. This was necessary for the main- 
tenance of the position occupied by the Persian as a universal 
monarchy ; it marks the essential character of the empire, which 
first enjoyed a settled order and constitution under Darius. 

The solidity of the Persian power rested upon the fact that 
it had nothing to fear in the East ; Persia even ruled over a 
part of India, although without crossing the Indus. The forti- 
fications on the Jaxartcs guarded against the inroads of the 
Massagetne and other nomad tribes. Farther westward the 
Caucasus formed an impenetrable barrier. That frontier was 
not overstepped until the invasion of Genghis Khan led to a 
struggle between East and West which continues at the pres- 
ent day. Thus the Persians had no more to fear from the 
North than from the East. Then came the great water basins, 
the Black Sea and the ^Egean, whose coasts they occupied 
without being masters of the sea itself. The remoter road- 
steads of the Mediterranean stood to the Persians in the same 
relationship as to the Assyrians; in Egypt they did not push 
beyond the frontiers of the old kingdom of the Pharaohs ; on 
the other hand, we hear no more of hostile attacks on the part 
of the Ethiopians. The frontiers continued the same until 



GOVERNMENT OF DAKIUS. 109 

Roman times. The Persians would have had most cause to 
be apprehensive from the side of Arabia, but these tribes had 
not as yet the aggressive impulse which they derived at a later 
date from religion ; if they were not to be trusted, they wore 
not actively hostile. 

The districts included within these boundaries were divided 
by Darius into satrapies, which he generally intrusted to Per- 
sians of the royal house or of other families of special emi- 
nence. With the satraps were associated officials immediately 
dependent on the king, who limited their prerogatives and 
kept them in subservience to the will of their supreme head. 
Everything depended on the recognition and maintenance of 
the regal authority, which had put an end to the struggle be- 
tween the several nationalities. It will be readily understood 
that this authority was incompatible with the peculiar devel- 
opment of these nationalities. The government of the king 
manifested itself everywhere as an alien power. The Persians 
did not content themselves, like the Assyrians, with an un- 
certain tribute; dependence was clearly expressed in a careful 
assessment. Yet the old independence of the nations was not 
absolutely suppressed. There were still populations which 
maintained chiefs of their own race, or were not to be brought 
to any kind of obedience. Persia was frequently at feud with 
them, but, willingly or unwillingly, had to tolerate their ex- 
istence. The warlike Carians did military service, but under 
their old chieftains. Sard is, where a Persian garrison now 
kept the citadel, was not much less of a capital than it had 
been before under its own kings, and the closer connection 
into which it was brought with the East gave to its trade and 
industry a new impetus. In Cappadocia, which was governed 
by satraps of the Achremenid line, whose descendants in later 
days were kings of Pontus, we find sacerdotal governments 
and limited monarchies almost independent of Persia. In 
Paphlagonia we rind chieftains who were in a position to 
bring 120,000 men into the field. The people of eastern Bi- 
thynia also were under their own princes; so were the Cili- 
cians, whose rulers were often engaged in Mar with the satraps. 
Tarsus rose in importance through the great commerce be- 
tween the northern and southern provinces of the empire. 



110 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

Even under the Persian dominion Damascus and Palmyra 
maintained their ancient fame and splendor. 

The Armenians continued to live, as heretofore, in their 
patriarchal fashion, their daily occupation being the rearing 
of eattle. The satrap had to live in an unfortified place. 
From Xenophon's "Anabasis" we see how much independ- 
ence was possessed by the populations between Mesopota- 
mia and the Black Sea. Babylon remained, as heretofore, the 
chief seat oi religion and of trade. The ancient Klam had, how- 
ever, become, we may say, the centre of the empire. Here, 
in Shushan or Susa, the City of Lilies, was the principal pal- 
ace of the king, the ruins of which resemble those of Baby- 
lon and Nineveh. The towns were all built of brick. In 
the mountains independent peoples maintained themselves, 
such as the Ousluvans and 1'xians, to whom the kings were 
compelled to guarantee rich presents of gold before they could 
visit Persepolia unmolested. To the satrapy of Media be- 
longed a number of rebellious mountain tribes, and the agra- 
rian contrast between cultivated land and wilderness was nearly 
coincident with that between subjects and rebels. The Mardi- 
ana were perfectly free, none even venturing to attack them. 
Bactria rivalled "Media in cultivation and in density of pop- 
ulation, but presented the same contrasts of steppes and ex- 
cessively fruitful districts. It was here that the religion of 
Zoroaster had struck its deepest root. At a later date it be- 
came a special centre of Grave- Asiatic culture. Parthia and 
Qyrcania were united in one satrapy: the Parthians were 
the Hyrcanians were in more tempting regions, but found in- 
dependence in their forests. They seem, as we infer from 
the name of their capital, to have kept their old rulers. Their 
district has had a reputation, both in ancient and modern 
times, as the home of excellent warriors. On the farther 
side of the Oxus was Sogdiana. the most important oi the 
frontier provinces, which had constantly to repel the invasion 
of the nomad tribes of the north, and to this end was pro- 
vided with a series of fortresses, one of which bore the name 
of Cyrus, the remotest of the strongholds which perpetuated 
the memory of the founder of the empire. 

In the centre of Iran, Persia itself, the home of the 



rEKSEPOLIS. HI 

and nation, Darius founded a royal city of great splendor, 
the ruins of which, by their squared masonry and the royal 
sepulchres adjacent, remind us of the buildings of Egypt. 
As in Egypt, the builders took the marble from the moun- 
tains in the neighborhood, and thus were enabled to tran- 
scend their models in Assyria and Babylon. Persepolis ap- 
pears to have grown, as it were, out of the mountain. On 
broad steps, moat carefully wrought out of huge blocks of 
marble, the ascent is made to the first terrace, the entrance 
to which is adorned with the wonderful animal forms of 
Iranian mythology, the unicorn, the symbol of strength, and 
the winged lion, which, decorated with the diadem, sym- 
bolizes the irresistible power of the monarch)'. On the as- 
cent to the second terrace are on one side the Modes and 
Persians, to whom the supremacy belonged, represented in 
their respective costumes ; and on the other deputations of 
the subject nations, offering their presents. The regions from 
which they come are indicated by their dresses; some are 
completely clothed in furs, others only girded round the loins 
with a leathern apron. 

An image of the king is carried by three ranks of male 
figures, who stand with upraised arms, like Caryatida, one 
above the other. The dress of the first rank is entirely Medo- 
Persian. In the lowest rank it has been thought the costume 
and hair of negroes can be distinguished. On the second ter- 
race the king is represented granting audience to an ambas- 
sador. Behind him stands a eunuch, with a veil over his 
mouth and a fan in his hand. The ambassador is seen in 
a reverential attitude, and he too holds his hand before his 
mouth, that his breath may not touch the king. It is a splen- 
did monument of the old empire of the nations, in which 
dignity and fancy arc exhibited on a grand scale. It derives 
a still higher value than that imparted by its columns and re- 
lievos from the inscriptions, which, on the building itself and 
on the sepulchres, express, in the different languages of the 
empire, the pride of the ruler in his exploits and his dominion. 

On several parts of the building may be read the inscrip- 
tion, " Darius, the great king, the king of kings, the king of 
the countries, the son of Vistacpa, the Acluvmenid, has erected 



112 THE MEBO -PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

this house." It is above all things his origin and the exten- 
sion of his power over other kings and nations which is at- 
tributed to the originator of the building as the foundation 
of his glory. On the Malls of the second terrace two other 
inscriptions are found, in which the help of the god Aura- 
mazda, who is the greatest of gods and rules all countries, is 
at once celebrated and invoked. Ill the lirst of these the 
Persian monarchy proper occupies the foreground : it said, 
"This land of Persia, which Auramazda granted me, which 
is beautiful and populous, through the protection of Aura- 
mazda and of me. King Darius, fears no enemy."' "May 
no enemy come into this province, no army, no scarcity, no 
falsehood! For this boon I entreat Auramazda and the gods 
of the country." It is noticeable that besides Auramazda the 
gods o( the country generally are invoked. It might be con- 
cluded from this that the religion of Orinuzd was one lirst 
introduced at a later date. What is perfectly clear, however, 
is that Ormuzd tolerated other gods beside himself, whilst 
remaining himself the principal deity. From him is derived 
dominion, the dominion at once of law and of universal order. 
The second inscription has special reference to the subject 
countries and nations. The king describes himself as "great 
king, the king oi kings, king of the many countries," which 
he then names one after another to the number o( twenty- 
four, lie says expressly that he governs them with the Per- 
sian army ; that he may not need to tremble before any ene- 
my, he prays that Auramazda may protect the Persian army. 
'• If the Persian army is protected, the Persian fortune will 
endure uninterrupted to the remotest time."'* These are no 
exaggerated phrases, like those of the Egyptian and Assyrian 
inscriptions, which may, notwithstanding, have served as a 
model; they do but express the real circumstances oi the em- 

s Spiegel (," Keilinschriften," p. 47), to whoso translation T adhere, al- 
though iu Oppert and Menant divergent rondo rings are found. A Rus- 
sian press has the merit of haying published the ancient Persian cunei- 
form inscriptions with the addition of foc-sirailes, and accompanied by a 
Latin translation and various welcome annotations. This is the work of 
Cajetan Eossowicz, " Inscriptiones Palseopersicse Achsemenidarum," Pe- 
faropoli, 1872, 



THE PERSIAN MONARCHY. 113 

pire. We recognise here the conditions of dominion Btated 
in progressive sequence. First we see the born king, who is 
not identified with the deity; he distinguishes between the 
protection of the god and his own, as jointly securing the 
land of Persia from every enemy. Backed by the douse 
population o( Persia, he next becomes master of the rest of 
the -world. On tlu 1 army depends the welfare and prosperity 
of the empire, which nevertheless is not regarded as forming 
a single whole, but as a union of separate subjeot races. 1 low- 
it became so, and what is the basis of the dominion, is next 
explained in a fourth inscription, which adorns the sepnlohre 
of Darius. The king himself is represented upon the out- 
side, a lire flaming before him and his right hand raised in 
prayer, whilst above him is a winged form, which Herder 
took to bo the " Ferver" (genius) of the king. In the Fer- 
vor, perhaps, lies the deepest moral idea of the Zend-Avesta. 
It is the pure essence of the spiritual creature, from which it 
is inseparable yet distinct, created by Ormuzd for the express 
purpose of contending against Ahriman, and therefore by 
nature combative.* The king has his bow in his left hand, 
just as among the Assyrians the ^ H ^ who deeides the battle 
appears with bent bow. The strong bow, with skill to bend 
it, is the symbol of strength. 

In the inscription attached to this design the king is called 
not only the great king, but. the king of the countries of 
all languages, the king of this great and wide earth. Once 
more the countries are enumerated which, besides Persia, 
were governed by the king. The list is more complete than 
the former one, a fact which of itself would point to a later 
date; in it the Modes figure most prominently, and there are 
added u the Ionians with the braided hair." "I rule them,* 3 
says the king; "they bring me tribute. What I order, that 
they do; my law is obeyed." "Auramaada delivered over 
to me these countries when he saw them in uproar,!' and 

* What was tbnnt ll'lj taken to be the Fervor more recent judges ex- 
plain to be the image of the god himself. 

t According to the translations of Menant ami Opperfc the meaning 
should be "saw them held captive in superstition," which involves no 
great difference, since uproar was always coincident with religious claims. 

8 



114 THE MEDO-PERSIAN KINGDOM. 

granted me dominion over them. By the grace of Aura- 
mazda I have brought them to order again." Then he again 
lays stress upon the valor of the Persians, through which so 
much has been achieved. " If thou askest how many were 
the countries which King Darius governed, look at the pict- 
ure of those who bear rny throne, that thou mayest know 
them. Then wilt thou know that the spear of the Persian 
warrior hath advanced far, that the Persian warrior hath 
fought battles far from Persia." 

The reason given for the establishment of the dominion is 
that all countries were in uproar — a state of things to which, 
it is represented, the supreme god wished to put an end, ef- 
fecting his object at length through the valor of the Per- 
sians. "We cannot exactly call this an exaggeration ; for as 
far as historical evidence extends there was always, especially 
in the western regions, an internal struggle, in which the Per- 
sians interfered and with their superior forces decided the 
issue. It was in this way that the whole edifice of their 
power was raised. The idea of order, of goodness, and of 
truth is everywhere predominant. 

We may here pause, for we only proposed to recall to mind 
the internal conflicts of the ancient world up to the point in 
which they resulted in a condition of equilibrium and tran- 
quillity. Such a condition is revealed to us in the monu- 
ments and inscriptions we have mentioned. Darius himself 
is, if we may use the expression, a monumental figure in his- 
tory. It was thus that the Persians of later times regarded 
him ; he is the original of Jemshid, the principal monarch of 
legend, to whom all peaceful ordinances are ascribed. In 
.ZEschylus, who was near in date to these times, and an enemy, 
Darius is represented as a paragon of greatness, goodness, and 
felicity. 

The Book of the Heroes of Iran, the poem of Firdusi, by 
which all views of the East have for centuries been regulated, 
is a kind of universal history, linked to the central figures of 
the Achsemenidre and the great king of the Medes, the Per- 
sians, and the Bactrians, the three races which compose the 
ancient Iran. In the story that this kingdom falls to the 
gentlest and most intelligent of the sons of Feridun we may 



THE PERSIAN MONARCHY. H5 

trace that idea of culture which was in fact the vital principle 
of the old Persian monarchy. It was thus that Xenophon, 
who was near in date to that epoch, and who had himself 
visited the East, conceived of Persia. In his Cyrus he sets 
up his ideal of a monarch ; he is one who combines every 
form of culture with power. Aristotle did not entirely share 
this view ; in his opinion power might be far better developed 
were the nations free like the Greeks. 



Chapter V. 
ANCIENT HELLAS. 

In the foreground of universal history arc Pound, as we 
have before intimated, not great kingdoms, but rather com- 
munities within narrow limits, belonging indeed to tribal as- 
sociations o( wider extent, but yet developing a social unity 
o\' their own, with an energy and vitality of individual stamp. 
Religion forms a bond of union, but there are local divisions, 
similar to those oi the Canaanitish tribes before the attacks 
of the Egyptians and the invasion of the Israelites. In this 
circle the Phoenicians stand out in conspicuous relief, dwell- 
ing in cities or districts far apart, yet interdependent, and 

endowed with an industrial and commercial activity oi' the 
widest range. Independent communities maintained their 
ground over the whole o( Syria, in Mesopotamia, at the 
sources o\' the Euphrates, even on the farther side of the 
Tigris, in Iran proper; they were flourishing when the Assyr- 
ian empire rose, and though, in consequence of their mutual 
dissensions, they were subjugated by it, they were not entire- 
ly suppressed. 

To the populations of this class belong the ancient Hel- 
lenes. It has been remarked that of all the branches oi the 

[ndo - Germanic family of speech the Greek idiom is gram- 
matically the most elaborate and the best fitted to express in 
adequate terms the natural logic oi the human mind. This 
initial advantage may have been improved by the natural 
character oi the region which the (1 reeks inhabited. 

Intersected as that region is in all directions by gulfs and 
bays, it forms nevertheless one geographical whole. That it 
is part oi' a continent is :i fact obscured by the peculiar for- 
mation of the country, which giv68 it a semi-insular character. 
The mountains on the north separate it from the adjacent 



GEOGRAPHY OF GREECE. n - 

continent, almost as the Alps for a long time secured Italy 
from the northern nations. Greece is in proportion to its 
size even richer than the land of the Apennines in the variety 
and extent of its coast line, which stretches to all points of 
the compass. The peninsula of the Peloponnesus presents 
beside the principal chain of its mountain ranges a number 
of smaller peninsulas. Central Hellas posscsscs^romontories 
10 Akarnania and Attica extending far to sea. The whole 
region, again, is encircled by islands, which, although for the 
most part of moderate circuit, form each an independent 
whole. In this region life was based upon the free move- 
ment of peoples who prided themselves above all things on 
their individuality. The sea, unfruitful though the Greeks 
called it, yet formed their proper element, and affected all 
their mutual relations. 

The varieties of character presented by the different dis- 
tricts and peoples, each of which cherished traditions peculiar 
to itself, make it easy to understand how it is that the oldest 
Grecian history, which was not brought together till later 
times, exhibits a confusion justly described as chaotic. This 
was no region for long successions of kings, such as those 
who reigned in Egypt. There was no common sanctuary at 
once uniting the nation and continuing its exclusivcness, such 
as was the temple at. Jerusalem, to which the Delphic oracle 
has only a remote resemblance. There was no room here for 
great towns, the seats of universal empire, such as Babylon 
and Nineveh. But throughout the whole of Greece life had 
a special and strongly marked character, instinct with anima- 
tion and intelligence. 

It may be objected that the original population was sub- 
jected to influences from more highly developed nations who 
crossed the sea; but, if so, these influences were transformed 
and received a national stamp from the peculiarities of the 
Greek character. The legend of Uerakles, the greatest of 
their heroes, has indisputable affinities with Indian, Baby- 
lonian, and Phoenician myths, but at the same time it is 
Greek to the very core. Even in opposition to the authority 
of Herodotus the Argives and Boeotians refused to part with 
their own local Uerakles. Uerakles is the subducr of the 



118 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

monsters who make the country insecure and uninhabitable, 
the invulnerable lion in the ravine, the nine-headed hydra of 
the marsh ; he is to the Greeks the symbol of human energy, 
divine in its origin, but condemned to service, and making its 
way upwards by performing with toil and trouble its neces- 
sary task. lie directs his irresistible strength also against 
monsters in human form ; he is, as an ancient writer says, 
the most righteous of all murderers ; he is the pioneer of a 
life according to law. In spite of the powerful goddess who 
persecutes him with her hatred, he wins for himself a place 
in Olympus, where he takes everlasting Youth to his em- 
brace. 

The fact that foreign forms of worship made their way 
even into Greece admits of no doubt, and they were prac- 
tised here and there in all their hideousness. Even on Gre- 
cian soil human beings were sacrificed to' the gods, after the 
manner of the Phoenicians; even the Greeks thought to con- 
ciliate thereby the powers of destruction. But at a very 
early epoch they, like the Hebrews, discovered a rational ex- 
pedient for evading these bloody rites. The legend of Iphi- 
gencia in Aulis may be compared with the narrative of the 
sacrifice of Isaac. The custom was not wholly abandoned 
in Greece, as it was in Palestine, but it assumed a milder 
character. Instead of killing human beings, it was counted 
enough to shed their blood, without causing death. It is re- 
lated that Dionysus, who originally at Delphi required a boy 
as a victim, substituted a ram in his place. The most essen- 
tial detail in the legend of Theseus is beyond doubt that part 
of it which makes him put an end to the monster with a 
human body and a bull's head, who devoured criminals and 
prisoners, and also to that tribute of children which the Athe- 
nians had to render. That legend shows evidence of the ten- 
dency through which Greece was enabled to sever herself 
from the East. If I am not mistaken, this is also the funda- 
mental idea of the legend of Pelops. He owes to the favor 
and providence of the gods themselves his escape from the 
horrible death which his father inflicted upon him, that he 
might make of him a loathsome banquet to set before them ; 
then, with the winged horses, given him by Poseidon, he 



GREEK MYTHOLOGY. 119 

readies Greece, where he founds a race of rulers more dis- 
tinguished than any other in Hellas. The story of the de- 
liverance of the Thebans from the Sphinx, a monster of an 
Egyptian type, at once cruel and intelligent, may perhaps be 
derived from the opposition to these foreign forms of wor- 
ship. We are not so much concerned to discover what the in- 
trusive foreign clement was, as to note the way in which the 
native inhabitants guarded themselves against its ascendency. 

From stories referring to the epoch when the land was 
made habitable, and to its liberation from the foreign rites 
which degrade man into a beast fit for sacrifice, the legendary 
history passes to a spontaneous movement in an outward di- 
rection. Jason, who personifies the maritime activity of the 
Minyee, sets out in his vessel, in which arc gathered the most 
famous heroes from all parts of the land, and boldly breaks 
the spell which has hitherto barred to the Greeks the entrance 
into the Black Sea, in order to bring back the golden fleece 
from JEa, or, as later writers said, from Colchis.* The next 
great event is the Trojan war. The legend of that war is to 
be taken in close connection with the contrast between Asia 
and Europe, a contrast which, though of no proper geographi- 
cal importance, has a very real weight from an historical point 
of view. For on the one side the coasts of Asia were in- 
volved in those general complications which led to the estab- 
lishment of the great monarchies ; while on the other the 
Greeks of the islands and of the peninsula had, as it were, an 
innate impulse to set foot firmly in Asia Minor — an impulse 
which was the first principle of their national and even their 
territorial existence. 

Of these contrasted tendencies the Trojan war is the result. 
Teucrians and Dardanians arc identical with Trojans. They 
belong to the northern nations of Asia Minor, and to that 
group of Thracian nationalities which, coming we know not 
whence, spread out along both sides of the Propontis. They 
were in alliance with the Phrygians, Carians, and all the races 
of Asia Minor, whose districts the Greeks invaded. From 



* Colchis is not known either to Homer or Hesiocl ; it appears first in 
Eumclus about 01. vii. 



120 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

the local recollections, of which we find unmistakable traces 
in a fragment of Mimnerinus, and which agree with certain 
notices in Herodotus, we may conclude, with as much certi- 
tude as the subject admits, that the colonial settlements of 
the (J reeks were not effected without violence, or without en- 
countering strenuous opposition. That there was a primitive 
and prehistoric Ilium is demonstrated beyond doubt by the 
recent excavations; and the Homeric poems are linked with 
this name. P>ut the struggle was no isolated one; the Asiatic 
races rally round Ilium, while, on the other side, there is a 
union of all the (J recks, amongst whom the Acluean race takes 
the lead, which undertakes the contest with Ilium. It is the 
wide range of the interests involved which gives to these 
poems of Homer their background and character; but it 
must not be supposed that they have anything to tell us of 
the special points of contrast between the contending nations. 
Such details would have been useless in the poetical treat- 
ment of the action, which required another kind of interest 
to engage the notice of posterity. The two parties at strife 
with one another require to be homogeneous. Even the in- 
terest of victory must recede into the background, to make 
room for one more comprehensively human. The Trojans 
must be like the Greeks; they must worship the same gods, 
and the forms of life in the midst of which they move must 
be similar. Of these forms, however, we may say with con- 
fidence, as far as the Greeks are concerned, that they were 
not invented, but corresponded to the times in which the 
poem itself took its rise, long after the events which gave im- 
agination its impulse had passed away even to their faintest 
echoes. 

The German nation has the advantage of possessing the 
description of a crisis in its remotest past, drawn by a con- 
temporary historian of the first rank ; incomparably greater 
is the advantage of the Greeks, who have inherited from 
primitive times a poem of native growth, which brings before 
us with unmistakable truthfulness, and in a complete form, 
the conditions of their life in its earlier stages. Whether 
Agamemnon and Priam, Achilles and Hector, Men elans and 
Taris are historical, or in what relations these names stand to 



HOMER 121 

the events of actual history, are questions we do not attempt 
to discuss.* We renounce all attempt to determine the epoch 
at which a Trojan war, if there ever were such a war, really 
took place. JJut the social conditions represented in the 
Homeric poems cannot be mere figments. By the Greeks 
they were always regarded as perfectly real, as archives, so to 
speak, from which very definite claims and prerogatives were 
derived. Although these archives take the form of a poem, 
I regard it as permissible and appropriate, in speaking of the 
Greeks, to recall to the memory of my readers in their main 
outlines the conditions which they portray and upon which 
all later history depends. 

The headship is invariably centred in a king, who is neither 
identified with the gods, as among the Egyptians, nor an ab- 
solute ruler over subject districts, as among the Assvrians. 
He may rather be compared with the petty chieftains who 
bore rule in the Canaanitish towns, but he has characteristics 
which are thoroughly unique: he is the head of a corporate 
organization. That the royal power was unconditionally he- 
reditary cannot be maintained, for otherwise Telemachus, for 
example, would have been regarded not only as the son but 
as the successor of Odysseus in Ithaca, which, however, is not 
the case. The chair of his father remains vacant in the as- 
semblies, although he is told that his race is more royal than 
the rest, which implies, not indeed a right, but a claim to the 
succession. The king has something of divine authority. 
From Zeus comes the sceptre ; fame and glory are granted by 
the god. The king's honor is from Zeus. His is an authority 
which secures him high personal prerogatives, but no unlim- 
ited power. 

In peace he enjoys the revenues of the Temenos, or the 
area of land set apart for him; on him depend counsel and 
action ; he collects presents from the people, for strangers, it 
may be ; the rest must follow his commands and bring him 
gifts, with which he is honored as a god and acquires riches. 



*I had already written this Ion-;- before I was acquainted with the 
essays of Midlenhoff ("Deutsche AlterthumskuiukV' i. p. 13 sq.), which 
agree in some points ■with the view I take. 



122 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

In war we find him offering sacrifice. He summons and dis- 
misses the council ; he speaks before the people ; to him the 
boot}' is brought and he divides it; the greatest share is pre- 
sented to him. The elders feast with him. The people obey 
him when he bids them take a particular route or fight brave- 
ly. " A Zeus-nourished king has great thoughts." 

In peace the king is surrounded by a council composed of 
the ciders. These are the graybeards who no longer serve in 
war, but are practised in debate ; it is they who give counsel ; 
they sit with the king in his palace as the twelve do with 
Alkinous, eating at his table, pouring libations to the gods, 
and listening to the minstrels. The king of the Phreacians 
appears as chief among the thirteen heads of the people. The 
chiefs have seats reserved to them in the general assembly, 
and in trials for life and death the}' take a principal part. 
As in peace, so also in war, the most distinguished of the 
Achasans arc designated as the "elders." They too are sceptre- 
bearing kings ; they marshal the people to battle; the people 
break off their clamor to listen to them. Though there is 
one king who has the supreme conduct of the war, the rest, 
as Achilles, regard themselves as his equals ; they are present 
at his banquet, and their cups are kept always full. After 
the victory over Hector, Aias is specially honored with the 
chine of the ox offered in sacrifice. They assist the king 
with their advice, and he does nothing without them. In 
peace it is age, in war it is valor, which finds admission by 
preference to the council of the king. 

If a matter is deliberated upon in the presence of all the 
people, they too have a voice. While Agamemnon is being 
required to give back Chryseis, all call upon him urging her 
restoration. They hold their gatherings by Agamemnon's 
ship. They are addressed as well as the king. They are 
"friends, heroes, Danai, servants of Ares." As a rule they 
are quietly summoned to the assembly by the heralds. We 
also, however, find Achilles calling them together with a loud 
voice. In this assembly the old men speak, as well as in the 
other ; and Nestor distinguishes the two when he says, " We 
were never of different opinion either in the council or in 
the assembly." The people answer by acclamation, exultant 



HOMER. 123 

shouts, and other intimations. The proceedings in Troy are 
the same as in the Grecian camp ; near the tower of Priam 
old and young gather together, not without uproar. In the 
Odyssey we find at times a kind of division taken to discover 
the opinion of the majority,* whilst in the Iliad a trial is con- 
ducted before the assembled people. So it is also in Ithaca. 
Telemachus causes the Achaeans to be summoned by the her- 
alds ; then he places himself upon his father's seat ; the others, 
the "old men," seat themselves around him. So again the 
market-place of the Phceacians is full of seats. Such is the 
character of their political constitution. They are differenti- 
ated by youth and age. The claims of descent are not by 
any means lost sight of, but there is no class of nobles with 
a distinctive training. 

The poem gives to every man his meed ; it notes who is 
the best man after Achilles, who it is rides the next best 
horse to his ; who is the handsomest, who the ugliest man, 
who the most excellent in his business or craft. The gen- 
tle and the good are praised accordingly. For the relations 
of family life conventional attributes have been formed," mild- 
giving " for the mother, " venerable " for parents generally, 
" dear," " beloved " for the elder brother ; young persons not 
yet full-grown are called "the modest." The solitary life is 
brought into view. The lonely man who, far from his neigh- 
bors, on the extremest point of land, thrusts the firebrand into 
the black ashes ; the hunter who sets the white-toothed hound 
upon the boar; others who in the heart of the mountain 
rouse the echoes as they fell the trees ; the reapers, who on 
the estate of the wealthy man work till they meet from op- 
posite sides; the autumn day when Zeus rains and all the 
rivers are full — the whole of life, in all its dignity and all 
its shortcomings, is set before our eyes. This it is which dis- 
tinguishes the poem from all others, and which rivets the 
reader's attention. So circumstantial is the picture that all 
semblance of unreality disappears. 

This world of men is encompassed by an analogous world 

* Instances are quoted by Schomann, " Griechische Alterthurner," i. p, 
27, another work which I have only cursorily inspected. 



10^ ANCIENT HELLAS. 

of gods. The struggle of the primeval powers, which forms 
the basis of the cosmogonies exhibited to us in Ilesiod, re- 
cedes in the poems of Homer into the background. The 
gods of Olympus* constitute the only system of religion 
which takes no account of the primary origin of things, and 
only symbolizes those general impulses which are obvious to 
all. It is a religion of the coasts and islands of the sea, and 
of those relations which have been created through the inter- 
course of mankind. It reveres the headship of a supreme 
deity, whose name reproduces the designation which other 
races also give to the Divine Being, but who, in the circle in 
which the Greeks place him, occupies a position without a 
counterpart elsewhere. Undoubtedly the other Greek deities 
also are to be connected with the notions of light and dark- 
ness, in fact, elementary conceptions in general, as well as the 
traditions of other nations which have touched these shores. 
But these are aspects never brought prominently forward, or 
developed as elsewhere. The gods are a great ruling family, 
with a supreme head who at last secures obedience; they 
have distinct characters, and innate impulses which take di- 
vergent directions and every moment act upon men. It is 
not a faith of universal range, or ideal and abstract character; 
the motive forces of the religion may be called autochthonous 
in their origin, for they are inseparably connected with the 
soil and the locality; they are fused with the life of human 
beings, and form with them one single whole. The habita- 
tions of the gods are in the immediate neighborhood of 
their worshippers. A figure that stands apart is that of the 
sea-god, whose displeasure can at any moment destroy all 
things. Other deities interfere in the employments oi life — 
the god of war, the god of the arts, the god of daily inter- 
course (an incessantly busy deity), and the goddess o( sensual 
love. From the head o( the supreme deity springs the god- 
dess o( thought. Beside the rest appears the god of prophecy 
and song, who is also the presiding genius of the weapon that 

♦Gerhard (fiber die ew61f Cotter Griechenlands,"Abhandlungen der 
Berliner Akademie dor Wissenschaften," 1840, p. 889 sq.^ thinks he can 
liiul as early as Homer deities to the number of twelve. 



THE DORIANS. 125 

strikes afar. A symbolism such as this was not the result of 
priestcraft or policy ; it was created and moulded by the 
fancy of a poetic age. Separate deities belong to separate 
districts ; the feeling of nationality finds expression in the as- 
sembly of the gods, and nowhere else. 

But, not to tarry longer in this vestibule of poetry, let us 
turn now to history proper. Here we encounter an event 
which annihilates at a blow the ancient conditions of the 
Achsean epoch as described in Homer. 

The Dorians, who are scarcely mentioned in Homer, are 
seen, in absolute contrast to the fixed relations exhibited 
throughout the poem, as lords and masters in Peloponnesus 
and as the dominant tribe in Greece. The manner, however, 
in which they became so has never been presented in a lucid 
and credible shape. If Herodotus represents the Dorians and 
Heracleida3 in the character of confederates in the enterprise 
against the Peloponnesus, the legend agrees with him in the 
main, inasmuch as it derives the claim upon which the Do- 
rians founded their conquests from Ilerakles, who did not 
belong to their race, but was the progenitor of their kings. 
It would not be a thing in itself unprecedented that an exiled 
dynasty should unite itself with a warlike people in order to 
establish its real or presumed title, and the allies of that dy- 
nasty would find their own advantage in the conquest they 
achieved. In the history of the Israelites we have an exam- 
ple of the conquest of a country on the ground of ancestral 
rights ; but this analogy places the Israelites in the position, 
not of the Dorians, but of the Heracleidse, since they all derive 
their descent from the patriarchs who founded the rights in 
question. In Greece, on the contrary, the principal fact is 
that another tribe associates itself in the undertaking with 
the rightful dynasty. In the old narratives of the event we 
encounter the difficulty that the Heracleidre themselves are 
regarded as Achreans ; there are kings of Sparta, Cleomenes 
for instance, who so designated themselves. I do not know 
whether we can leave this circumstance out of account ; it 
clearly implies that the Dorians were taking in hand a cause 
which was not originally their own. 

Again, this comparison with the Israelites throws a certain 



12G ANCIENT HELLAS. 

amount of light upon the political character of the event. 
The Israelites utterly annihilated the native inhabitants in 
the districts in which they became masters, so that their old 
tribal constitution maintained its national character and could 
continue its development. The Dorians, on the other hand, 
subjugated but did not extirpate the older population, whence 
arose a constant opposition between the two nationalities 
included within the same frontiers. The state established by 
the Dorians was composed of discordant elements, of victors 
and vanquished. The Dorians retained their old tribal con- 
stitution ; but the subject peoples everywhere opposed them, 
and had their allies far and near. The action and reaction of 
these conflicting forces determined the course of all subse- 
quent Greek history. 

Let us linger, however, for the present over the earlier 
stages of the history. If we inquire into the causes of the 
success of the Dorians, we may find the principal one in their 
strategy, especially their advance in close order with out- 
stretched spears. Before this method of attack, employed by 
better-disciplined troops, the old tactics of the Achocans, as 
described in Homer, had to give way. In the Peloponnesus 
three kingdoms were formed side by side. The claims of 
the three brothers descended from Herakles, who complete 
the conquest, were decided by lot. Argos fell to Temenus, 
the eldest ; it was invaded from the sea, and conquered with 
difficulty. After Argos, Sikyon was subjugated by Phalkes, 
a son of Temenus, and from the latter region the dominion 
spread as far as Phlius. A son-in-law of Temenus occupied 
Epidaurus, with which, again, xEgina was combined by con- 
quest, so as to form with it a single community. Corinth 
also, the Ephyra of the JEolian house of Sisyphus, was cap- 
tured, not from the side of Argos, like the neighboring Sik- 
yon, but by a Dorian roving about upon his own account, 
who originally received in contempt of his claims only a clod 
of earth. 

Laconia had fallen to Eurysthcncs and Proclcs, the sons of 
the second brother. It is uncertain whether it was conquered 
after or before the death of their father. They fixed the cap- 
ital of their kingdom at Sparta, not far from the ancient seat 



THE LAKEDJEMONIANS. 127 

of the Pelopidse. But it was a long time before they could 
dispossess the Achseans of the hill country of Taygetus, and 
the latter maintained their hold upon Amyclae. Cresphontes, 
to whose share Messenia fell, and who established himself at 
Stenyclerus, set up native chieftains over smaller districts, in 
which the subjects were to be on an equality with the domi- 
nant races ; they perhaps acknowledged dependence only on 
the king. His successors united themselves still more closely 
with the native inhabitants, and in consequence were involved 
in a war with the Lakedcemonians, whose animosity is indi- 
cated by the tradition that they bound themselves by an oath 
not to lay down the sword till they had conquered Messenia. 

The legendary history of this conquest is full of incident 
and variety. We must not forget that the opposition of the 
Messenians is pronounced hopeless at the outset, owing to the 
non-completion of a human sacrifice ; so that here again we 
have this rite coming, and yet not coming, into view. Their 
king Aristodemus slays himself. Then Ithome, the chief for- 
tress of the country, is conquered by the Lakedsemonians, 
and the land divided, after the manner of Laconia, for the 
benefit of the conquerors. Once more Messenia rises in in- 
surrection, under the direction of a descendant of Cresphon- 
tes; but the younger generation persist in and carry to a 
successful issue the war which their grandfathers commenced. 
Emigrations in great numbers confirm the subjection of the 
country to Lakedsemon. 

In these struggles Sparta, whose destiny it was frequently 
to take a decisive part in the common concerns of Greece, de- 
veloped the form of her constitution. From the very first 
this constitution was rather the work of an aristocratic com- 
munity, scrupulously true to its character even in the minutest 
details, than of the monarchy itself. The latter, however, re- 
signed itself unconditionally to the measures adopted. How 
the result was brought about is expressed in the almost myth- 
ical legend of Lycurgus. The ruling families were at feud 
with one another and with the monarchy. To these quarrels 
the man privileged by divine authority put an end by legisla- 
tion. Lycurgus exacted a promise that the order established 
by hiin should be maintained ; then he retired to Delphi, 



128 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

where, after receiving the divine sanction for his work, he is 
said to have starved himself to death. The legend symbolizes 
the inviolability of the constitution, the basis of the greatness 
of Sparta, 

Entirely different from the policy of Lakcdoemon was that 
pursued by Argos. Her most imposing figure, at least as far 
as her political attitude and aims are concerned, is Pheidon. 
Having succeeded in possessing himself of the harbors of Ar- 
golis, he took the liveliest interest in the commercial activity 
of the epoch. Through intercourse with the East, commerce 
had now reached a point at which a trustworthy scale for 
measuring the value of things was indispensable. Pheidon 
adopted the weights and measures which the Phoenicians, 
herein followers of the Babylonians, had introduced into trade. 
The coined money which came from Lydia he rivalled by a 
native (J reek coinage, designed for the commerce with West- 
ern Asia. It has been thought that pieces of his money can 
be distinguished among the oldest specimens of Greek coin- 
age ; the impression which they bear suggests the Phoenician 
worship of Aphrodite. The Ilcraclid of Argos, who, whilst 
extending his power by armed force, has trained himself in 
the arts of commerce, is, as far as I know, the first personal- 
ity in Greek history whose date can be fixed with an approach 
to exactitude. lie belongs to that period of the Assyrian 
Empire when it embraced Cyprus and Egypt and held Phoe- 
nicia under its sway. His death is assigned to the year GGO 
before our era,* the time at which Assurbanipal suppressed 
the Egyptian insurrection. Pheidon was master of Epidaurus 
and the warlike /Egina, a powerful maritime state, where he 
established his mint. The circumstance that the Lakedsemo* 
nians were engaged in the Messenian war contributed to ren- 
der him supreme in the rest of the Peloponnesus. lie inter- 
fered arbitrarily in the Olympian games, in the foundation 
of which we see an effort after a settlement between the em- 
igrants and those native inhabitants who had retained their 

* I follow in this the reading which modern authorities very generally 
agree in adopting, in Pausanias, vi. 22, 2, according to which Pheidon is 
placed, not in the 8th, but in the 28th, Olympiad ; cf. Curtius, " Gric- 
chische Geschichte," 5th cd. i. p. 656. 



COLONIES. 129 

independence. Herodotus designates his behavior as an out- 
rage inflicted by him upon all the Hellenes. But even in his 
own lifetime the old order was restored in the games. Phei- 
don is said to have been slain in a hand-to-hand encounter in 
the course of a struggle with Corinth. Although a Ileraclid 
by birth, he is exhibited in history as a tyrant, which, accord- 
ing to the most probable explanation, is to be traced to his 
having broken through the tribal relations hitherto prevailing 
within his dominions. 

A personage such as Pheidon leads the mind by a natural 
transition into a wider horizon, and to a subject of universal 
import — the maritime development of the Greeks. This is so 
far connected with the conquest of the Peloponnesus that the 
tripartite Dorians, as they are called in the Odyssey, had 
made themselves powerful even in Crete, which they had to 
a great extent made Dorian. The naval supremacy {lhalasso- 
kratia) was, beyond doubt, chiefly in Dorian hands. But 
the other Greek races also, who had not been affected by the 
ruin of the Peloponnesus, and moved at large in their native 
independence, took a very active part in maritime expedi- 
tions. 

The foundation of the colonies may be regarded as the first 
great enterprise of the Greek people beyond their own limits. 
It is the most remarkable conquest ever made. The Phoeni- 
cian colonies had rather a mercantile and religious interest, 
only expanding into political importance in Carthage. But 
the occupation of all the neighboring coasts by colonies which 
spread the characteristic life of Greece in all directions was a 
fact of the highest political and national significance. 

The colonies were fond of tracing back their origin to 
Apollo and the Delphic oracle; but, in point of fact, internal 
catastrophes and dissensions gave the principal inducement 
to emigration. The eastern colonies had a primitive centre 
of their own in Delos, where, even in the earliest times, con- 
gresses from the neighboring islands had taken place; thither 
they made pilgrimages with their wives and children ; athletic 
contests were established, and competitions in the arts of the 
Muses. An Homeric hymn boasts that neither age nor death 
seemed to have power over the Ionians. The festival was at- 

9 



130 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

tended by representatives not only of the twelve Ionian towns 
of Asia Minor, but also of Chalkis and Athens. 

These twelve towns, the foundation of which is traced to 
the pressure of population caused by the immigration of the 
Dorians into the central regions of Greece, were not entirely 
Ionic, but the Ionic element nevertheless predominated. The 
manner in which the immigrants procured themselves wives 
may be compared with the rape of the Sabine women, but the 
proceeding was a far more violent one; not only the hus- 
bands, as stated in the first account given by Herodotus, but 
the fathers and children of the women were slain. According 
to Herodotus, the after-effects of this act remained inefface- 
able. The xEolian colonies, attributed to Argive leaders, and 
established for the most part upon a narrow strip of land 
around the Eleatic Gulf, were also originally twelve in num- 
ber. But between the Greek colonists peace was maintained 
as little as between the parent races in Greece. Smyrna was 
taken and permanently occupied by the Ionians. Yet the 
members of each tribe possessed a certain degree of unity 
among themselves. Half-way between Ephesus and Miletus, 
near the promontory of Mycale, was the Panionium, at which 
the Prienians offered the sacrifice. Miletus and Ephesus, 
however, continued always to be the most active and power- 
ful cities ; the latter more intent upon the acquisition of terri- 
tory ; Miletus, on the other hand, one of the greatest coloniz- 
ing centres in history. No less than seventy -five distinct 
colonies are ascribed to her, for the most part on the coasts 
of the Black Sea, whose shores were thus drawn into the cir- 
cle of Greek life. The Phoenicians everywhere withdrew be- 
fore these influences, or else became Greek in character ; for ex- 
ample, Thales, the great Milesian, was remotely of Phoenician 
origin. 

To the iEolians Lesbos became by degrees a kind of me- 
tropolis ; Mytilcne is one of the principal seats of the older 
Greek civilization. It was precisely in these regions that the 
reminiscences of the Homeric epoch were preserved in the 
most vivid form ; the Ionian Chios is the seat of the Homc- 
ridoe, who kept up the traditions of that time. 

Important as these colonies were to the world, they cannot 



COLONIES. 131 

sustain a comparison with the Dorian settlements. The south- 
western coasts of Asia Minor were fringed with the latter. 
Ilalicarnassus, " the castle by the sea," formed, with Onidos, 
Cos, and Rhodes, a separate Doric Amphictyony. A series 
of islands in the southern part of the ^Fg:ean Sea described, 
as it were, a line of Doric settlements, among which was 
Thcra ; the Cretan colonies on the shores of Lycia may also 
be regarded as Dorian. The legend does not omit to mention 
the intervention of Crete when it is necessary to account for 
the establishment upon the coast of Libya of a Dorian colony, 
Kyrene, said to have been sent from Thera. In another di- 
rection Megara made advances ; to this town is assigned the 
honor of having founded Chalkcdon, and of having been the 
first to recognize the advantages of Byzantium as a site for 
the empire of the world. It would be enough to inspire us 
with admiration for the Dorian name could we venture to 
regard the colonization of the Propontis, of the southwest of 
Asia Minor, and of Libya as part of one coherent plan, involv- 
ing the occupation of the most important maritime positions 
in the eastern Mediterranean. Yet this is not the full ac- 
count ; with these must be combined the colonics which 
spread the Greek name at tho same time over Sicily and 
southern Italy. 

The great metropolis for the establishments in the West 
was Corinth. From hence Korkyra and the opposite shores 
of Illyria were colonized ; Epidamnus (Dyrrhachium) is a Co- 
rinthian, Tarcntum a Spartan, settlement. According to tra- 
dition it was by an accident that the Chalkidians were driven 
to the coast of Sicily. These traditional accounts have almost 
the charm of voyages of discovery : the main fact, however, 
was the settlement itself. From Ortygia, which stands to 
Sicily in the same relation as Mytilene to Lesbos, Syracuse 
was founded. Rhodes established no settlements in the East, 
but most important ones in the West, Gela and Agrigentum 
being derived from her. Tho reason of this, doubtless, is that 
there were in the East powerful kingdoms in her neighbor- 
hood, which barred all farther progress, whilst in the West 
the Phoenicians, that is, the Carthaginians, were contented to 
make a beginning with the coasts most conveniently situated 



132 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

for their purposes, leaving the other parts of the island to the 
Greeks, who easily mastered the native inhabitants. The 
same was the case in Libya. Syracuse and Agrigentum soon 
rose to power, as did Kyrene. 

Thus the Hellenes spread on both sides of the mother 
country, which is itself little more than sea-coast, towards 
east and west. They were very far from constituting what is 
called a power ; it was not even in their nature to do so ; but 
they formed an element destined to produce the greatest effect 
upon the world, which at once made its influence felt in all 
directions. No doubt their warlike training by land and sea 
principally contributed to tin's result, the Dorians especially 
reaching an extraordinary degree of perfection in this respect. 
The Greeks generally showed themselves excellent soldiers; 
their equipment made them at once superior to their neigh- 
bors. The bronze foundries in Chalkis were reckoned the 
best in the world, and although they regarded their arms as 
merchandise, and sent them far and wide into foreign parts, 
the armor of the Hoplites was peculiar to the Greeks. Their 
superiority in naval warfare became no less marked. Tri- 
remes were invented at Corinth, and subsequently served to 
raise Samos into a naval power. 

This active and vigorous population, whose elements were 
as infinite in their variety as they M T ere copious in number, 
followed in every situation an impulse of its own. To at- 
tempt to pursue these varieties in all their bearings would 
lead us too far into the explanation of local circumstances. 
But Greek life in general displays certain characteristics which 
can never cease to be significant. The Hellenes followed no 
common political aim ; they cannot be compared with the 
great powers of which we have had occasion to speak ; their 
provinces and towns were of insignificant extent. But the 
manner in which these men, with no extraneous impulse or 
example, lived together and ordered their public affairs de- 
serves the most attentive consideration. Independent and 
self-centred, thoy created, in a constant struggle of citizen 
with citizen and state with state, the groundwork of those 
forms of government which have been established in the 
world at large. We see monarchy, aristocracy, democracy, 



LAKEDJiMON. 133 

rising side by side and one after another, the changes being 
regulated in each community by its past experience and its 
special interests in the immediate present. These forms of 
government did not appear in their normal simplicity or in 
conformity with a distinct ideal, but under the modifications 
necessary to give them vitality. An example of this is Lake- 
daemon. If one of the families of the Heracleidse aimed at a 
tyranny, whilst another entered into relations with the native 
and subject population, fatal to the prerogatives of the con- 
querors, we can understand that in the third case, that of the 
Spartan community, the aristocratic principle was maintained 
with the greatest strictness. Independently of this, the divis- 
ion of the Lakedoemonian monarchy between two lines, nei- 
ther of which was to have precedence, was intended to guard 
against the repetition in Sparta of that which had happened 
in Argos. Above all, the members of the Gerusia, in which 
the two kings had only equal rights with the rest, held a posi- 
tion which would have been unattainable to the elders of the 
Homeric age. 

But even the Gerusia was not independent. There exist- 
ed in addition to it a general assembly, which, whilst very 
aristocratic as regards the native and subject population, as- 
sumed a democratic aspect in contrast with the king and the 
elders. The internal life of the Spartan constitution depend- 
ed upon the relations between the Gerusia and the aristocratic 
demos. From the first, according to a primitive Iihetra,* the 

* I purposely avoid dealing with the alleged legislator Lycurgus, who 
still belongs to the realms of myth. As for the legislation itself, the de- 
cision given at Delphi, which is extant in its original form (Plutarch, 
"Lycurgus," c. 6), is the most important document; yet it presents, as is 
well known, various difficulties, so that I feel myself bound to support my 
opinion, where I dissent from others, by reference to the wording of the 
oracle. After directions have been given for holding the assembly at 
appointed times and at an appointed place, viz., within the Dorian settle- 
ment proper, it is further said of the order of procedure ovtojq eiacpepeiv 
Kai d(pi<TTaa9ai, which might, perhaps, mean "propose a motion and then 
withdraw." To the last word, however, some assign the signification 
" put the question to the vote." (Cf. Schneider, " Greek Lexicon," s. v. 
d<p£aTi)p, and Grote, " Hist, of Greece," ii. 462, n. 2.) " Let the power," it 
is said, "rest with the people" (Sdfjuf ce rdv Kvpiav ii/xev Kai Kf.drog, accord- 



134 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

initiative in the assembly belonged to the king and the Geru- 
sia. They had to propose resolutions, but to decide upon 
them was reserved for the aristocratic commons. On the part 
of the kings an attempt was made to limit this prerogative in 
cases where its exercise would have been inexpedient; but 
against this arose out of the aristocratic Demos the power of 
the Ephors,* who had authority to call together the assembly 
and to impeach the kings themselves. On the other hand, 
they guaranteed to the kings, in the name of the Demos, the 
possession of their power in so far as they submitted them- 
selves to the laws. Two of them accompanied the king on 



ing to the reading of Miiller, " Dorians," ii. 85, n. 3). According to the 
constitution, then, the aristocratic Demos would have had the chief 
power, and the principle of government would be much the same as that 
in Venice. That this is the true explanation is shown also by the statute 
of the king Thcopompus at a later dale, which provides an expedient for 
the king and senate in case of the people adopting a preposterous policy. 
* Ottfried Miiller traces the origin of the power of the Ephors to their 
surveillance over the market and their civil jurisdiction. But how they 
attained from this starting-point to the prerogative of impeaching kings 
and bringing them to trial remains unexplained. If the Ephors had the 
right of summoning the popular assembly and proposing laws, this con- 
tradicts the principle of the constitution expressed in the Rhctra men- 
tioned above; and we might, perhaps, suppose that when the king and 
Gerusia, in accordance with the rule presented by Thcopompus, were 
dffooTarTJjpEc, i. c, declined to accept the resolutions of the popular as- 
sembly, the Ephors thereupon came forward from the midst of the demos 
to conduct the deliberations, and thus obtained a power analogous, but op- 
posed, to that of the kings and the Gerusia. They have an authority like 
that of the Council of Ten in Venice; but their advance to power took 
the reverse direction. For in Venice the Council served to keep the 
sovereign multitude in check, itself belonging to the Gerusia; in Sparta 
the Ephorate rose out of the aristocratic demos, and kept in check the 
monarchy and the principal families. For the general relations of the 
parties nothing is more significant than the oatli which, according to the 
account in Xenophon (AaKE$ai{ioviu>v TroXiTsia, c. 15), the kings and the 
Ephors took to one another. In this the Ephors figure, not, properly 
speaking, as champions, but as representatives of the commonalty; the 
king swears to govern according to the laws of the city, whilst for the 
city the Ephors swear that so long they will leave the privileges of the 
king undisturbed, ry 81 TruXet, ifnrccopKovi'Tot; tictivov, uariXfiiXiKTOv rjjv fiaoi- 
Xtiav wapi^HV. 



CORINTH. 135 

his campaigns. To make terms of peace was the prerogative 
of the Ephors. The reins of supreme power were, in fact, in 
their hands. The Spartan aristocracy dominated the Pelo- 
ponnesus. But the constitution contained a democratic ele- 
ment working through the Ephors, by means of which the 
conduct of affairs might be concentrated in a succession of 
powerful hands. 

Alongside of this system, the purely aristocratic constitu- 
tions, which were without such a centre, could nowhere hold 
their ground. The Bacchiadte in Corinth, two hundred in 
number, with a prytanis at their head, and intermarrying only 
among themselves, were one of the most distinguished of 
these families. They were deprived of their exclusive su- 
premacy by Kypselus, a man of humble birth on his father's 
side, but connected with the Bacchiadaa through his mother. 
There is a famous speech in which the Corinthians complained 
to the Lakedoemonians of the violence of the aristocratic gov- 
ernment. But they were not entirely correct, if their re- 
marks were pointed also at the constitution of Sparta her- 
self; for the Bacchiadffl rather resembled the Gerusia, which, 
however, maintained no real authority as compared with 
the Ephors. A combining element such as ruled supreme 
in Sparta was wanting in other cities. Only in Thebes did 
an exiled Bacchiad, Philolaus, succeed, by a strict legislation, 
principally designed to guard against the excessive subdi- 
vision of the estates belonging to the dominant families, in 
firmly establishing the aristocratic ascendency. He intro- 
duced an isonomy into the oligarchy, and so enabled it to 
hold its ground. 

Elsewhere the antagonism between the elements of which 
the cities and the country districts were respectively com- 
posed was attended with results which would have been 
intolerable in Sparta. The tyranny rested for its support 
upon the Achaean population, which set itself against the ex- 
clusive dominion of the Dorian families. Kypselus and his 
successor, Periander, surrounded themselves with a body- 
guard, by the help of which they thinned the ranks of their 
opponents in these families by exile or execution, but kept 
the commons in control by taking care to give them occupa- 



136 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

tion.* The antagonism we have spoken of was most pro- 
nounced in Sikyon, where the Orthagoridoe, who were sprung 
from the people, absolutely changed the tribal relations and 
overwhelmed with ignominy the Dorian phyloa, whilst con- 
tinuing their hostility to Argos, to which they had formerly 
been in subjection.f In Megara, Theagenes, who belonged to 
the principal families, elevated himself to the tyranny, with 
the assistance of the Achseans, to whom the supremacy of 
those families was intolerable.^: In the Ionian cities, where 
the families were far from holding the same strong posi- 
tion as in the Dorian, the tyranny established itself without 
such assistance. This was especially the case in the islands 
and the colonies. There was need of an authority to direct 
the powers of the community to definite ends. There were 
interests not merely of the subjects as opposed to their im- 
migrant rulers, but of the populations generally. As the 
Kypselidse rose in Corinth, the metropolis of the colonies 
towards the west, so in the corresponding eastern metropo- 
lis, Miletus, Thrasybulus raised himself from the dignity of 
prytanis to that of tyrant ;§ in Ephesns, Pythagoras rose to 
power, and overthrew the Basilidre ; in Samos, Polycrates, 



* Kypselus, according to Herodotus (v. 92, 0) and Aristotle (" Pol." v. 
9, 23=12 p. 230,4 Bekker), held the tyranny for thirty years, Periander, 
according to Diogenes Lacrtius (i. 98), for forty years (according to the 
manuscript reading in Aristotle, forty-four years; but this does not tally 
with the period assigned for the -whole duration of the tyranny of the 
Kypsclidre, which rather requires forty years). Periander died, accord- 
ing to Sosicrates (ap. Diogen. Laert. i. § 95), 01.48, 4=585 b.c. The fall 
of the Bacchiada:, according to this, must have happened seventy years 
before, 01. 31, 2=G55 B.C. Eusebius places it in 01. 30, 2=659-8 b.c, 
and O. Muller, " Doricr,'' i. p. 161, n. 9, adopts this date. 

t Aristotle ("Pol." v. 12=9, 21) gives to the dynasty of Orthagoras a 
duration of a hundred years, and observes role dpxofitvoic txp^ VT0 /'fpi'wc 
Kal ttoWu ro'ig vofioiq iSouXevov (cf. Curtius, " Peloponncsos," ii. p. 485). 
O. Muller (" Dorians," i. p. 164, n. 1) places the tyranny of the Orthagoridaj 
between 01.26 and 51=676-576 B.C. 

I The daughter of Theagenes married Kylon of Athens (Thuc. i. 126), 
who in 01. 35 = 640 B.C., won the prize at Olympia in the "diaulus" 
(double course). 

§ Thrasybulus was a contemporary of Pisistratus (Herod, i. 20). 



SOLON. 137 

who was master also of the Kyklades, and of whom it is re- 
corded that he confiscated the property of the citizens and 
then made them a present of it again. By concentrating the 
forces of their several communities the tyrants obtained the 
meaus of surrounding themselves with a certain splendor, and 
above all of liberally encouraging poetry and art. To these 
Polycrates opened his citadel, and in it we find Anacreon 
and Ibycus;* Kypselus dedicated a famous statue to Zeus, at 
Olympia. The school of art at Sikyon was without a rival, 
and at the court of Periander were gathered the seven sages 
■ — men in whom a distinguished political position was com- 
bined with the prudential wisdom derived from the experi- 
ence of life. This is the epoch of the legislator of Athens, 
Solon, who more than the rest has attracted to himself the 
notice of posterity. He is the founder of the Athenian 
democracy. 

The tradition concerning Solon has many fabulous traits — 
for instance, his appearance in the market-place with the de- 
meanor of a man not quite in his senses, a story which 
reminds us of the legend of Brutus. In a very characteristic 
way the account which makes Lycurgns, on setting out upon 
his travels, bind the Lakedremonians to the observance of his 
laws, coincides with the tradition that Solon laid a similar 
obligation upon the Athenians, though only for ten years. 
There is ample justification for the doubts cast upon the 
narrative of the meeting between Solon and the last king of 
Lydia. In the main, however, the details we possess regard- 
ing Solon rest upon a far more solid foundation than those 
which concern Lycurgus. The legislation ascribed to him 
did, in fact, proceed from him. On the one hand, it is in 
keeping with the contrasts generally prevailing in the Greek 
cities, whilst on the other it shows its author to have been a 
man of much experience and knowledge of the world. Its 
foundations are laid in the condition and circumstances of 
Attica itself. 

* Polycrates himself wrote poetry, and had a place among the elegiac 
poets, amongst whom also Pittacus is reckoned ; a scolion by the latter 
is still extant (Bernhardy, " Griechische Literaturgeschichte, ii. 357). 



138 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

The balance of opinion in ancient, times inclined to the 
view that Attica is to be counted among the Ionian districts. 
The Attic tribes, who had gathered together in the capital, 
were distinguished in the same way as the Ionian, and bore 
the same appellations. This fact seems to point to the ex- 
emption of the Attic population from intermixture, and its 
purport is confirmed by the oldest tradition, which goes back 
to a period when there was a danger of such intermixture 
taking place through the immigration of the Ileracleidse and 
the Dorians. This tradition attributes the deliverance of the 
country to the self-devotion of the last king, affirming that no 
one after this was counted worthy to succeed him. It is in 
accordance with the general experience of history that the 
autonomy of the native populations, suppressed over a wide 
range of country by the Heracleidae, should have asserted 
itself with all the greater vigor in another quarter. This 
movement did not immediately react upon the constitution of 
Athens. There also great families assumed the lead, and un- 
der one form or another exercised dominion and administered 
justice. The Areopagus, a primeval tribunal, hallowed by 
mythic associations, where trials were held under primitive 
forms, secured to them a privileged authority under the 
sanction of religion. This tribunal, however, did not inter- 
fere with the ancestral claims of families and phratrise. Phra- 
triae were associations of a sacred character, in which one 
family was, as it were, security for the existence of the other. 
The four tribes were connected by direct ties with the gods; 
and this was, in fact, the ground of their claim to equal priv- 
ileges.* 

In Athens, however, as in most other cities, there ensued a 
schism between the powerful families. How violent this 

* In one of the earliest plays of Euripides, placed by Bockh (" Grsec. 
Trag. principes," p. 191) in 01. 87, 4, and by Gottfried Hermann at any rate 
before 01. 89, Ion himself appears as a son of Apollo by Creusa, who gave 
birth to him secretly. From Ion is descended Teleon ; from him come 
also the Hopletes, Argadeis, and ^Egikoreis. The last-named occupy the 
Kyklades and the adjacent continents (Ion, 1580 sq.). It must, of course, 
be observed that this view was almost contemporary with that of Herod- 
otus. Xuthus is only the presumptive father of Ion. 



ATHENS. 139 

schism was may be inferred from that law of Draco which 
knows but one punishment, that of death, for all transgres- 
sions alike,* for in a general disunion the smallest crime is 
as dangerous as the greatest. In Attica, as elsewhere, chiefs 
of parties arose, who aimed at autocratic power. One of the 
principal Eupatridse, Kylon, on one occasion took possession 
of the Acropolis. He was opposed by the family of the 
Alcmseonidse, but in enticing away Kylon's supporters from 
the sacred asylum in which they had taken refuge they 
outraged the religion of the country, or, in the language of 
pure human feeling, that higher law upon which all else was 
based, and which held the inhabitants together. That the 
soil on which they stood might be desecrated by certain acts 
was a dominant idea among the nations of antiquity. The 
family of the Alcmseonida?, which had incurred the guilt of 
such an act, was regarded with universal abhorrence, and was 
banished ; but the land itself needed again to make its peace 
with the gods. We have once more a reference to Crete, 
whence the Delphic oracle was derived. One of the Cretan 
Kuretes, famed for his acquaintance with the secrets of the 
gods, was invited to Attica, to carry out the sacred forms of a 
lustration, and to assure the country of its restoration to di- 
vine favor. 

By occurrences of this kind the authority of the principal 
families could not but be shaken to its very foundations. One 
of these had attempted to destroy the general freedom, an- 
other had offended the gods. Nevertheless, after the banish- 
ment of the Alcmaeonidce the rest of the Eupatridse main- 
tained themselves in full dignity. They cannot be compared 
with the Lakedaemonian aristocracy, who regarded the inhab- 
itants of the country as their subjects. The inhabitants of 
Attica were on a footing of equality in respect of hereditary 
rights, yet it seemed that a condition of dependence might 
be brought about here, as in Lakedremon. The opportunity 
was presented in the assertion, not of public, but of individual 
claims ; for, according to existing laws and usages, debt, when 

* The archonship of Draco falls, according to Eusebius (in the Arme- 
nian translation), in 01. 40=G20 B.C. 



I Id ANCIKNT HELLAS. 

it was not possible to discharge it by payment, led imme- 
diately to bondage and servitude. The general growth of 
commerce involved the consequence that Athenian citizens 
could be Bold into slavery, [f this had boon allowed to go 
on, the subjection o( the lower classes to the higher would 
have become the rule, and the country would have lost the 
chief Bouroe i^( its Btrength. Already the state itself had 
fallen BO low that it had allowed itself to be deprived of 
Salamis, which commands the harbor o( Athens. 

In the midst of this confusion, whilst law and religion were 
thus disorganized, and political weakness and incapacity were 
everywhere the rule, Solon appeared upon the scene. He 

belonged to the Eupatridee, and traced his pedigree toCodrua 

himsolf. But the prosperity o( his country weighed more 
with him than the claims of rank. If we could venture, in 
treating o( remote antiquity, to speak of motives which are 
intelligible to every one, we should attribute the legislation of 
Solon to the Peeling which seizes upon every patriot when he 
sei\s his native land in a perilous condition, out of which some 
way of escape must be found unless everything is to go to 
ruin. To him is ascribed that purification of the land which 
was, so to speak, a treaty oi peace with its gods ; and also the 
recovery of Salamis, without which the lYinous could never 
be o\ any real use. Solon himself was active in mercantile 
affairs; and this OCOUpation must o( itself have convinced 
him how infinitely important it was for Attica to have the 
free use id" her coasts and harbors, and to what a position slio 
might aspire by employing the natural advantages o( her sit- 
uation. To this end, however, the main essential was some 
arrangement for securing the freedom of her population. In 
ancient times all other distinctions sink into insignificance 
compared with that between freeboru men and slaves, and no 
circumstance has been more productive o( civil disturbance 
than the attempt of the wealthy oitizens to depress into the 
class of bondsmen the poorer members o( the community, by 

asserting the Legal rights oi oreditorship. Every debtor was 

accustomed to pledge his person for the discharge of the debt, 
and was compelled, himself and his family, to do service in 
lieu oi payment. Legal justice thus became the greatest 



soi.ON. 141 

political injustice. Those who were incapable of payment 
were even Bold into foreign servitude. Never had the traffic 
in slaves, the focus of which was in Tyre,* received such an 
impulse as at this epoch. The merchants followed armies 
into the field, and the prisoners made were at once Bold as 
slaves, along with those who had been deprived of freedom 
for civil reasons. We may oonceive the feelings of an 

Athenian o( rank at seeing, among the slaves sold, his own 
countrymen, who a short time ago had lived in the enjoy- 
ment o( freedom. This was the first evil whioh Solon, when 

authority was given him by universal consent, undertook to 

remove. f lie secured his countrymen from ever again be- 
ing treated as chattels. No native Athenian was henceforth 
to he condemned to bondage, or sold into foreign parts, on 
account of debt. Those who hail suffered the latter fate 
returned again to Attica. Many had been so long abroad, 
passing from hand to hand, that they had forgotten their 
native dialect. This may, perhaps, be regarded as one t A the 
first steps in history towards the recognition of human dig- 
nity, though its action was limited only to the country it con- 
cerned. 

In other respects also monetary relations had operated in 
Attica with distracting results. The oppressive encumbrances 

Upon real property could never be got rid o( if private Con- 
tracts of long standing were to be carried out to the letter. 
We shall not go far wrong in ascribing to the personal interest 
which Solon took in the general commerce ol' the world the 
fact that he did not maintain the standard of money with 
rigorous adherence to its current value in Attica, lie it was 
who, in the coinage designed to form an Occidental or ( i reek 
silver standard, corresponding to the ( >riental standard of gold, 
debased the substance of the silver mina, and so substituted a 
nominal for its former real value. The measure was facilita- 
ted by tin' circumstance that the influx of gold was upon the 



* The prophet Ezekiel makes it a reproach to the Greeks that they 
imported slaves into Tyre. 

t The archonship of Solon falls in 01. 40, 3=59-1 B.0, (Clinton, "Fasti 
Hell." ii. 298). 



|.jo ANCIENT HELLAS. 

increase, it. being a well-known fact that, even in ancient times, 
the fluctuations in the relative value of gold and silver de- 
pended upon BUch causes. The new silver miiui was made 
equal in value to the old, and the leans which had been made 
upon the old footing oould be repaid upon the new. Political 

necessity out weighed private interests and claims. But the 

legislator, being thoroughly oonversant with matters of busi- 
ness, insisted that, loans upon interest should continue to be 
allowed, whereas elsewhere many objections were raised to 

the praotice o( usury. We find ourselves here in a region 

where we have no trust worthy landmarks o( tradition to de- 
pend upon. But one thing is clear, that through Solon's 
romediarv measures the social relations with reference to re- 
liffion, human freedom, and civil intercourse underwent a 

transformation. With this was combined that political revo- 
lution bv which Solon founded a great commonwealth. 

An innovation o( great extent and importance was the SO- 
Oalled timooraoy, aCOOrding to which a certain amount of 
means was a necessary qualification for a share in the offices 
o'i state. The titnocracy broke through the aristocratic insti- 
tutions hitherto established, inasmuch as it limited the privi- 
leges o( birth by exacting a census. This was fixed, accord- 
ing to ancient traditional usage, by the amount of produce 

yielded by the land held in possession. Three olasses were 
established, with definite privileges and duties. Even the 
third, however, was s^> fixed that there must have been many 

Eupatridffi who failed to reach its standard, and thus were ex- 
cluded from the most important affairs of state. There was 

no question of abrogating the privileges hitherto attaohed to 

ownership, but only o( an assessment, involving at the same 
time a continuation o( the title. Indeed, it is inconceivable 
that a dominant and still powerful nobility would have ac- 
cepted the monetary innovations introduced by Solon, if it 
had not been indemnified, SO to speak, in some other way. It 
was only the three higher classes which paid direct taxes and 

wore capable o( being elected to offices. At the Rrsl glance 

We see in this a contrast to the tendencies which everywhere 

else prevailed. 

There was a general bias in the Greek states and cities 



SOLON. li;; 

towards restraining the oligarchies, or rather towards depriv- 
ing them of decisive control over public affairs. It was on 
this tendency that tyranny depended. It based its power 
upon the elevation o( the lower strata of the population, but 
the representation which it gave them was violent and transi- 
tory. Solon sought to utilize the motive force by which 
tyranny was supported, by conceding to those classes whioh 
were excluded from the direct tenure of offices twofold right 
o( great importance, only on the ground that their means did 
not give an adequate voucher for its satisfactory exercise. 
This was the right of electing to otliees, and of examining, on 
the expiration of each term, into the way in which the duties 

of the office had been discharged. The suffrage was by no 

means universal ; it depended in all oases upon the legal as- 
sessments, and since the number of those entitled and com- 
petent to hold the highest otliees, upon whieh important 

issues turned, could not be very considerable, the right of 
voting must, chiefly have been exercised in the rejection of 

less popular or estimable candidates. The investigation made 

the highest magistrates responsible to the assembly of the 
people; the archons themselves might, be excluded from the 
honor of sitting in the Areopagus. The leading families re- 
tained their rank and claims, but they depended, for the 
attainment of their chief ambition the exercise, namely, of 
the supreme power — upon the judgment of the community 
at large. It is in this that Solon's ohief achievement consists; 
the classes whose members were individually excluded from 
the administration of state affairs received in their collective 
capacity an authority whieh implied the possession of the 
supreme power — an authority such as only the tyranny could 
exercise elsewhere. The constitution of Solon has the char- 
acter id' a reconciliation. Aristotle, to whom we are indebted 
for our knowledge of both these concessions, pronounces them 

to have been necessary and indispensable, alleging that with- 
out them the Demos would have been forced into a hostile 
attitude.* Solon further provided for the interests of the 

* Arist. "Pol." ii. c. 12, p. 1274, a. 15: E<$X«v yt faun n)y &vayicaiOT&rt)v 



14-4 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

Demos by giving the demotsa a jurisdiction of their own, 
to guard against unjust interference in their affairs.* It 
was owing to the existence of two distinct elements in the 
community that Solon established two distinct senates. One 
of these, the Areopagus, was a body of aristocratic tendencies, 
consisting of those who had served the office of archon : its 
function was to maintain the laws in their integrity. The 
other, the Council of the Four Hundred, was a proboulentic 
senate, which had the prerogative of settling for the assembly 
of the people the subjects on which they were to deliberate, 
and of watching over the execution of their decrees. The 
four hundred members were selected from the four tribes in 
equal proportions. Solon is reported to have said that the 
security of the republic was attained by these two councils, 
as a ship is made fast by two strong anchors in the midst of 
a tossing sea. 

The poetical remains which passed among the ancients 
under Solon's name display not so much depth or majesty of 
thought as knowledge of what is good and desirable in the 
relations of human life, together with a genuine feeling for 
the things of religion. His proverb " Nothing in excess" 
indicates his character, lie was a man who knew exactly 
what the time lias a right to call for, and who utilized exist- 
ing complications to bring about the needful changes. It is 
impossible adequately to express what he was to the people of 
Athens, and what services he rendered them. That removal 
of their pecuniary burdens, the seisachthew, made life for the 
first time endurable to the humbler classes. Solon cannot be 



ki'vu'c Cov i'p <V//<i><; hovkoQ Av efij Kai iroXfyuof. Because of a trifling oversight 
— if it is one — to be found ill this chapter (cf. Iuickh, " Die Staatshaus- 
haltung dor Athener," ii. p. 81), we cannot venture to conclude that it is 
not genuine. 

■ Demetrius Phalereus (in a scholium to the "Clouds" of Aristophanes 
— Midler, " Fragm. Hist. Gwec" ii. p. 368, fragm. 8), roi Simapxovs ol -epi 
SoXwva taBlaravro (>■ jroXXy tnrovSy, Via oi icard ftjjftov SiS&n rai XapfiavtHTt 
r.i ftrata -■!.>' dXXjjXwv. Even though the word deniareh, which at a later 
time has rather reference to political administration, may he here mis- 
applied, we should have to suppose that ftjeom-ai wtrd colore were intended 
(cf. SchSmann, " Griechische Alterth inner," i. p. -49). 



SOLON. 145 

said to have introduced democracy, but, in making the share 
of the upper classes in the government dependent upon the 
good pleasure of the community at large, he laid its founda- 
tions. The people were invested by him with attributes which 
they afterwards endeavored to extend. The democratic ele- 
ment first presents itself as indispensable in the domestic af- 
fairs of the commonwealth ; it was designed to counterbalance 
the power of the oligarchy. We have already shown that in 
Sparta the whole substance of power resided in the aristo- 
cratic assembly, and it is noticeable that Solon in one of his 
most famous verses declares that he has granted the people 
only just so much power as was necessary. But it was little 
likely that the Athenian Demos would content itself with this 
limited power, and the whole succeeding period bears witness 
to its efforts to expand and improve that power till it became 
the supreme authority in the state. 

In times of civil discord, the first thing needful in the mind 
of a legislator is to restore the disturbed equilibrium between 
the different authorities and classes of society. It was this 
which Solon intended to do for Athens, and in a great measure 
carried out. This constitutes his principal merit. But the 
revolution he effected was not a native and independent prod- 
uct of the soil ; the general condition of the world reacted 
upon Athens, and made the change at once possible and 
salutary. If we are not mistaken, this is the first time that 
the power of money made itself felt in the internal affairs of 
an important community. It was the general intercourse of 
commerce which supplied Solon with the means of effecting 
his principal regulations. 

Another vital step was the distinction established between 
the human being and chattels or money. Money becomes 
what it ought to be, a standard for the balance of political 
claims. The poorer classes were not only benefited by being 
delivered from the danger of being expelled from house and 
home or sold as slaves ; by the laws of Solon they were at 
the same time firmly attached to the communit}^, which 
from this time forth included them as members inseparable 
from it. 

It is a subject for lasting contemplation that this was 

10 



140 ANCIENT HELLAa 

effected by a legislator in whose mind views of tho widest 
ran are were fused with the sentiments of patriotism. Solon 
cannot he compared with Moses, who extricated a people from 

the Influence of conceptions winch had become ;i part of their 
very life, and, being at once captain, prophet, and legislator, 
organized them in submission to the idea of a universal relig- 
ion o\' relentless severity, such as completely to transform the 

nation and to pave the way to a great conquest. Solon made 
no claim to a divine mission, still less did he entertain the 
design of effecting a. great conquesl ; his ambition limited 
itself to winning back a neighboring island, which had an- 
ciently belonged to the country, and in the next place to 
uniting the different classes oi' the inhabitants, by the accom- 
modation iA' their disputes, into an independent and powerful 
Commonwealth. Moses could only bo represented in symbol; 
an ancient bust represents Solon as a prosperous, sagacious, 
and vigorous man; his was a popular nature, dexterous and 
practical, bis mind a storehouse of prudent thoughts. The 
two legislators have one point of contact : the idea of slavery 
is repugnant to them both; otherwise they are fundamentally 
distinct. 

That Solon's creation would prove durable appeared doubt- 
fid from the very first moment. The equilibrium, upon which 
his constitution depended, could not maintain itself in the 
Btruggle o[' the conflicting elements. Tyranny and oligarchy 
bad their centre o^ gravity in themselves. The constitution 

of Solon lacked such a centre. Solon himself lived long 
enough to see the order which he established servo as the 
basis of the tyranny which he wished to avoid; it was the 
Four Hundred themselves who lent a hand to the change. 
The radical cause ^\' failure was that the democratic element 
was \oo feebly constituted to control or to repress the violence 
of the families. To elevate the democracy into a true power 
in the state other events Were necessary, which not only 
rendered possible, but: actually brought about, its further de- 
velopment. 

T1h> conflicts o\' the principal families, bushed for a moment, 
were revived under the eyes of Solon himself with redoubled 
violence. The Alenueoimhv were recalled, and gathered around 



PEISISTRATUS. 147 

them a party consisting mainly of the inhabitants of the sea- 
coast, who, favored by trade, had the money in their hands ; the 
genuine aristocrats, described as the inhabitants of the plains, 
who were in possession of the fruitful soil, were in perpetual 
antagonism to the Alcmfflonidffl ; and, whilst these two parties 
were bickering, a third was formed from the inhabitants of 
the mountain districts, inferior to the two others in wealth, 
but of superior weight to either in the popular assemblies. 
At its head stood Poisistratus, a man distinguished by war- 
like exploits, and at an earlier date a friend of Solon. It was 
because his adherents did not feel themselves strong enough 
to protect their leader that they were induced to vote him a 
body-guard chosen from their own ranks. It was the Council 
of the Four Hundred itself which came to this resolution ; 
and the assembly of the people confirmed it, no doubt be- 
cause the security of the poorer classes called for a powerful 
head of the state.* As soon, however, as the first two parties 
combined, the third was at a disadvantage, so that after some 
time sentence of banishment was passed upon Poisistratus. 
He did not return until he had pledged himself to a family 
union with the AlcmfflOnidffi. He was already in middle age, 
and had children ; he had no serious intention of founding a 
new family by a union with the guilt -stained house of the 
Alcmreonidte, although such a union would perhaps have put 
him in a position to obtain absolute supremacy ; and he was 
banished once more. But in this second exile he made every 
preparation for securing his return. 

One of the most important facts which mark this epoch is 
the first employment of mercenary troops. Poisistratus, who 
cultivated close relations with the despots of the neighboring 
islands, especially with Lygdamus of Naxos, found means to 
gather around him a troop of brave mercenaries, with whom, 
and with the support of his old adherents, he then invaded 
Attica. His opponents made but a feeble resistance, and ho 

* Whether this step was really taken in consequence of a wound inflicted, 
or from a more or less well-founded anxiety for the life of Peisistratus, is 
unimportant. In the case of Lorenzo de' Medici there was no need for 
such a stratagem to obtain for him the protection of a similar guard. 



148 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

became without much trouble master both of the city and of 
the country. He thus attained to power; it is true, with the 
approbation of the people, but nevertheless by armed force. 
The people were disarmed, and had other and peaceful occu- 
pations assigned to them. Peisistratus would as little suffer 
them to be without occupation as to bear arms. It was upon 
Thracian mercenaries that his despotic government rested 
mainly for its support. The constitution established by Solon 
he had no intention of disturbing, but its character was such 
as to leave it possible for a man of superior gifts to take the 
reins of government and control it at his pleasure. In this 
position Peisistratus labored most profitably for a series of 
years to enhance the power of Athens,* and that with de- 
signs and in a spirit suggested by the general situation of the 
Hellenes. 

The Persians were not only lords of Asia Minor and mas- 
ters of the Ionian colonies settled on those coasts, but were 
stretching out their hands towards the islands. Peisistratus 
did his best to hinder the growth of this new empire of the 
world. He united to Athens by the closest bond the island 
of Delos, whose relations with Asia Minor were now severed 
by the Persians. He won a foothold in the colonial district 
by obtaining possession of Sigeum, a town on a point of land 
in the Hellespont. His view, that land occupied by the Greeks 
did not belong only to the tribe which was its immediate 
owner, was very important. It was clear, he maintained from 
Homer, that the original occupation was the work of all the 
Hellenes. Peisistratus won for himself an imperishable title 
to gratitude by making a collection of the Homeric poems ; 
it is probable that in undertaking it he acted on political as 
well as other motives. It certainly implied an opposition to 
the advance of Oriental culture, which was spreading like a 
flood over the whole of Greece. The means by which Peisis- 
tratus possessed himself of the ascendency in Athens cannot 
be approved ; his success was the consequence of divisions 

♦Aristotle says that out of a period of thirty-three years he held the 
tyranny seventeen; according to Clinton the period of his clearly ascer- 
tained supremacy is included between the years 537-527. 



PEISISTRATUS. I49 

within and open violence from without. But after lie had at- 
tained to the possession of power he exercised it for the bene- 
fit of Athens. It is under him that Athens first makes her 
appearance as a naval power. The conquest of the maritime 
districts of Thrace, with all their resources, an event of great 
importance in the history of Athens, was made under his rule. 
Athens thus obtained a certain rank among the powers by 
which she was surrounded. We have almost to stretch a 
point in order to call Peisistratus a tyrant — a word which car- 
ries with it the invidious sense of a selfish exercise of power. 
No authority could have been more rightly placed than his ; 
it combined Athenian with Panhellenist tendencies. But for 
him Athens would not have been what she afterwards be- 
came to the world. The greatest injustice has been done to 
the oldest of the exact historians, Thukydides, in attributing 
the good opinion which he expresses of Peisistratus to per- 
sonal considerations such as any historian, really intent upon 
his office, dismisses from his view. Nevertheless, it must be 
admitted that Peisistratus governed Athens absolutely, and 
even took steps to establish a permanent tyranny. He did, in 
fact, succeed in leaving the power he possessed to his sons, 
Ilippias and Ilipparchus. Their reign, like his own, is de- 
scribed in a Platonic dialogue as a golden age, so complete was 
the prosperity of Athens in those days of peace. But public 
prosperity can never efface the memory of a defective title. 
It could not fail to be keenly felt how much was implied in 
the heavy tax which the despots, in order to keep up their 
power, laid upon the land, whilst the people remained un- 
armed. The commonalty gradually dissociated themselves 
from the house of Peisistratus, to which they had been at- 
tached. Of the two brothers it was the one who had rendered 
most service to culture, Ilipparchus, who was murdered at the 
festival of the Panathensea. It was an act of revenge for a 
personal insult. But there is no doubt that republican senti- 
ment gave the dagger its edge, and the assassins were cele- 
brated as men who had sacrificed their own lives to the res- 
toration of freedom. In his dread lest he should be visited 
by a similar doom, Ilippias actually became an odious tyrant 
and excited universal discontent. 



150 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

One effeot, however, of the loss of stability which the au- 
thority of the dominant family experienced was that the 
leading exiles ejected by Peisistratus combined in the cn- 
terprise which was a necessary condition of their return, the 
overthrow of Bippias. The Alcmeeonidse took the principal 
part. On their banishment by Peisistratus they had estab- 
lished themselves in P-hokis, where they had gained for them- 
selves a position which made them formidable even in exile. 
They were in close compact with the Delphic oracle, for 
which they built a splendid temple; and the Spartans were 
at all times inclined to combat a rising tyranny and to set 
oligarchical governments like their own in its place. The 
AicmtBOnidSB and their confederates took up a strong posi- 
tion in Alt ica, close to the frontier. llippias, on his side, 
obtained the support oi' some Thessalian cavalry; but these 
at the crisis were unwilling to shed their blood in a cause in 
which they had no concern, and withdrew. Unfortunately 
for llippias, his children, whom he had sent to seek their 
safely in Might, fell into the hands of his combined antago- 
nists. In onler to obtain their freedom he had to bring him- 
self to evacuate the citadel.* 

The revolution to which this opened the way could, it 
might seem, have but one result, the establishment of an 
oligarchical government ; for other leading families had joined 
with the Alcnueonidjc, and it cannot be doubted that the aims 
of the Spartans were directed to this end. l>ut the matter 
had a very different issue. The oligarchy could only have 
been established through a complete understanding and com- 
bination between the A lcni;vonid;o and the remaining families. 
But between these two parties there existed an ancient feud 
which was always being stirred into a Maine by new causes of 
discord. Another motive oi' ancient origin also made its in- 
fluence felt. It COllld never be forgotten in Lakeda'inon that 

: The expulsion of Hippiastook place in the twentieth year (Thuk. vi. 
59), before the battle of Marathon (400 b.o.) therefore in 510 \'.c. In 
the fourth year before this (Herod. v. 55; Thuk. 1. c.) Eipparchus had 

been slain, i. e. in 514. As the tyranny of the sens of Peisistratns lasted 

eighteen years (Ar. " Pol."v. 0, 88 18, p. 880, 18, Bekker), his death must 
be placed in the year 587. Cf. Clinton, "Fasti Hell." ii. p. 801 sq. 



CLEISTIIENES. 151 

the Alcmoeonida) were emigrant Mcsscnians, who had sought 
and found refuge in Athens. It soon appeared that, though 
between the Alcmeeonidffi ami the Spartans a transitory un- 
derstanding might ho established, no lasting concord was to 
be expected. In this conflict, on the one side with the families 
of the Eupatridffij on the other with the Spartans, the Alcnue- 
onid Cleisthenes conceived the thought of conferring on the 
democratic institutions created by Solon an authority inde- 
pendent of the will and pleasure of those of his own rank. 
For this object a thorough transformation of the Demos was 
necessary.* The principal step to this end consisted in break- 
ing up the old tribes, which in their corporate organization 
supported the traditional influence of the Eupatridffi. In this 
he followed the example of his grandfather ( lleisthenes, who, 
in order to bring the city of Sikyon into complete subjection 
to himself, had broken up the old Doric tribal associations 
and abolished their names. It was thus that Cleisthenes now 
dealt with the Ionian tribes, yet, it must be clearly under- 
stood, with very different ends in view. The grandfather 
had aimed at tyranny for himself ; the grandson opposed him- 
self at once to tyranny and to the authority of the Eupatridffl. 
He established a new partition of the people into ten tribes, 
which gave to the democratic principle the upper hand. 
This did, indeed, immediately provoke an oligarchical reac- 
tion, which was once more supported by the Spartans. The 
latter, in conjunction with their Peloponnesian allies, ad- 
vanced under their king, Cleomenes, in order to stay the inno- 
vations at their outset. They brought up once more against 
Cleisthenes the old guilt of the Alcmffionidffi, and he was 
forced for the time to retire. The Athenian democracy, which 
was now compelled without his assistance to defend with 
might and main its newly won privileges, was chiefly aided 
by the circumstance that the rest of the Peloponnesians were 
already little disposed to allow the Spartans to becoino masters 
of Attica. Instead of seriously engaging in (lie war, they 
broke up their union. This took place upon the plain of 



* This change of the constitution cannot hare taken place earlier than 
507 B.O. Cf. Schonnmn, " Die Vcrliissungsgeschichte Athens," p. 80. 



152 ANCIENT HELLAS. 

Elcusis. To the Pcloponnesians themselves the freedom of 
Athens was indispensable, if they were not to become com- 
pletely dependent upon Sparta. There were still Boeotians 
and Chalkidians in the field to maintain the cause of oli- 
garchy. The Athenians, with Cleisthenes now once more at 
their head, fought for their cause with a courage which they 
had never hitherto displayed, and with the best success. For 
"an excellent weapon," says Herodotus, "is iscgoria / each 
man knows that he is fighting for himself." 

It was thus that the democracy of Athens sprang into life. 
Its rise was not due immediately to the idea of universal and 
inalienable rights, nor was it so regarded either by Solon or 
by Cleisthenes ; for them it was a step dictated by political 
necessity. But when once established it gained an irresistible 
strength, and became the most efficient among the primary 
forces at work in the subsequent history of Greece. 



Chapter VI. 

THE ENCOUNTER BETWEEN THE GREEKS AND THE PERSIAN 

EMPIRE. 

Towards the middle of the sixth century before our era 
the future of the world seemed to belong to the Greeks. We 
know how their colonies expanded over all the coasts and 
bays of the Mediterranean and Black Sea. It would have 
been for them a step of momentous importance if their ally 
Pharaoh Necho of Egypt had executed his plan of uniting 
the Red Sea with the Mediterranean by a canal. They would 
thus have been brought into direct intercourse with Arabia 
and India. Necho was a prince who aspired as high as his 
epoch permitted, but who failed to achieve his aim ; the 
Greeks might serve to defend Egypt, not, however, to raise 
her to the empire of the world. 

There was, however, an atmosphere spreading generally 
over the eastern gulf of the Mediterranean which gave prom- 
ise of a fusion between the powers of the East and Greek 
aspirations and aptitudes. We are speaking now of the 
period between the destruction of the Assyrian and the rise 
of the Persian monarchy. The states and kingdoms which 
were at this time prominent, and were colliding with each 
other on various lines, sought and found among the Greeks, 
who possessed the best weapons and were most practiced in 
war, competitive offers of support. "We meet with Greek 
auxiliaries not only in the army of Necho, but also in the 
opposite Babylonian camp. Kingdoms of moderate extent, 
in need of foreign assistance and sufficiently provided with 
the means of paying for it, were, indeed, desirable neighbors 
for the Greeks. The Mermnadse, who ruled in Lydia, often 
came in conflict with the Greeks settled on the shores of Asia 
Minor. They compelled them to the acknowledgment of 



154 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

their suzerainty ; but meanwhile tbc internal resources of the 
Ionian and . Kolian cities were daily upon the increase. 

The kings of Lydia, in whom the Oriental element was not 
particularly strong, attached themselves with the liveliest in- 
terest to the (J reeks. Many a Greek sanctuary was indebted 
to King (Vu'sns for new decorations. It was from Croesus 
that Delphi received the most splendid of the votive offerings 
brought to her shrine. The Pharaohs of the Saitic dynasty 
surrounded themselves with an Ionian body-guard. They 
maintained brigades of Greek troops in the quarters they had 
established at the mouths of the Nile. The commerce of 
Egypt, at any rate on the coast, was in Greek hands, and the 
reactionary movement which once more took place in favor 
of native Egyptian interests, though it overthrew the reign- 
ing dynasty, yet made no essential difference in this respect. 
Even Amasis. who effected the change, had a body-guard of 
Greeks, lie intrusted Memphis to the Greeks, and founded 
for them that settlement at Naucratis which was composed 
of Dorians, Ionians, and JEolians from the neighboring islands 
and coast, towns. They had a common sanctuary, called the 
Ilellenion ; for, according to a frequent experience, these 
races were most inclined to remember their fellowship with 
each other when they were cast among strangers. Ilalicar- 
nassus, the native city of Herodotus, took part in these meas- 
ures. The king permitted the Greeks to worship the gods 
after their own and not after the Egyptian fashion. 

Moreover, Amasis displayed almost as great reverence as 
Crossus for the divinities worshipped by the Greeks. Accord- 
ingly, though the former king subdued Cyprus, the loss to 
Greece was not without its compensations, since the island 
was thus emancipated from the Phoenician and Oriental influ- 
ences to which it had been subjected for centuries. We may 
doubtless in this case distinguish between two kinds of inter- 
est, the Immediate political interest and the national interest, 
which do net always go hand in hand. The latter found sup- 
port and encouragement both in Lydia and in Egypt ; with 
the former this was not always the case. 

To all this, however, the rise of the Persian monarchy put 
an end. The destruction of the kingdom of Lydia was a loss 



THE RISE OS PERSIA. 155 

to the Greeks which it is impossible to estimate. The hospi- 
table capital of the monarch was replaced by the residence of 
a Persian satrap, who levied a fixed tribute from the country 
generally, including the Greek cities. From this condition 
of affairs arose in these cities the iirst attempt at a rebellion, 
through a native to whom had been intrusted the collection 
of the taxes. Put as soon as the Persian power was set in 
motion the attempt collapsed, and had no other consequence 
except that the new dominion established itself all the more; 
firmly. Of the cities which had taken part in the insurrec- 
tion some were sacked and others levelled with the ground 
by the superiority of the Oriental artillery. The fugitives 
sought the assistance of their kindred; and the Greek ele- 
ment, which had hitherto been pushing towards the East, was 
now thrown back upon its native region in the West. 

Results still more important followed from the subjugation 
of Egypt by Cambyses. The event of most importance in 
preparing the way for this result was the withdrawal of 
Cyprus from the. dominion of Egypt, through the union of 
the Phoenicians with Persia. Egypt depended upon the naval 
power of the Greeks, who now in turn lost the empire of the 
sea, which they had hitherto maintained. In the war which 
ended in the subjugation of Egypt itself the Greeks rather 
injured than assisted Amasis. Nevertheless his overthrow 
was a great calamity to themselves. In Egypt a power made 
itself supreme which could not possibly tolerate the (J reck 
influence. The Greeks never maintained friendly intercourse 
except with potentates opposed to the Persians. It is unde- 
niable that the extension of the Persian dominion over Asia 
Minor, Syria, and Egypt gave; a violent check to the onward 
movement of Greek life. On the other hand, it seemed as if 
the great enterprise of Darius Jlystaspis against the Scythians 
ought to have united the Greeks and Persians. It was of a 
piece with the general policy of Darius that, after defeating 
so many other adversaries, he undertook to prevent for all 
succeeding time a repetition of those inroads with which, 
some centuries before, the Scythians had visited Asia and the 
civilized world, lie possessed authority enough to unite the 
different nations which obeyed his sceptre in a great campaign 



15G GREECE AND PERSIA. 

against the Scythiaus. The subjection into which the Greeks 
Oil the coast of Asia Minor had been brought — a subjection 
so complete that they appear in the Persian monuments as 
Integra] parts of the main empire — prompted him to make 
use of them in order to secure a strong position on the Dan- 
ube, and thence to advance into the Scythian steppes. It is 
probable that he really cherished the design of pressing on 
till he reached the passes of the Caucasus, through which the 
Scythians had formerly made their irruption into Lydia and 
Media. Otherwise it would scarcely have occurred to him to 
fix a period, at the end of which the Ionians, who built him 
a bridge of boats over the Danube, might, if he did not come 
back, themselves return home. The Greeks were his best 
allies in his campaign ; they built him the bridge by which 
ho crossed the Bosporus, and also the bridge of boats over the 
Danube by which he made his invasion into the enemy's ter- 
ritory. The result was not one which could properly be 
called unfortunate; yet it was certainly of a very doubtful 
character. The Scythians avoided an encounter in open bat- 
tle with the overwhelming forces of the king. Barbarism has 
always this advantage over civilization : it is far more diffi- 
cult to attack, and so can defend itself with proportionately 
greater case. There were no frontiers here, as there were on 
the banks of the Iaxartes, which could be secured by a line of 
fortresses. Darius attempted something like this upon the 
Volga ; he erected some forts there, but only to abandon them 
immediately. He resolved to return to the bridge, which 
meanwhile had been effectually guarded for him, and to 
complete the subjugation of the Thracian populations as far 
as this had not already been achieved on his first passage 
through the country. Here was another conspicuous success 
which turned out to the disadvantage of the Greeks. A great 
region, in which they had already obtained very considerable 
influence, was closed to them once more. The Persian army 
brought the populations upon the Strymon, many in num- 
ber and individually weak, under the dominion of Persia; 
ami even A.myntas, the king of Makedonia, one of a race of 
rulers of Greek origin, was compelled to do homage to the 
Great King. Thus the movement which had thrust back the 



DAIUUS. 15 f 

Greeks from Egypt and Asia Minor made advances even into 
the regions of Europe which bordered upon Northern Hellas. 
It was an almost inevitable consequence of this that the Greeks 
were menaced and straitened even in their proper home. 

A pretext and opportunity for an attack upon the Greek 
islands was presented to the Persians by the questions at 
issue between the populations of the cities and the tyrants, 
which, by the constant bickerings they excited, sufficed of 
themselves to give full employment to the inhabitants. The 
argument is well known by which, after the passage of Darius 
over the Danube, the proposal to destroy the bridge— a meas- 
ure which would have prevented the return of the king, and 
would have restored the subject nations to freedom— was re- 
jected. It was these very tyrants who, with their followers, 
were in charge of the bridge. They took account of the dan- 
ger that, if the design were carried out, nations and cities 
would rise in insurrection, and that all the dominion which 
they enjoyed would be lost. From Miletus, where this feel- 
ing found the strongest advocacy, steps were taken under the 
direction of the tyrant Aristagoras to subdue Naxos, the most 
powerful of the Kyklades which still remained free, and it 
was designed when this was effected to make an attempt upon 
Eubcea also. The vision of the great and ever-encroachino- 
empire dominated the horizon of every other race. Even the 
citizens of Athens, when hard pressed by the Lakedfflmonians 
and Boeotians, had entertained the idea of invoking the assist- 
ance of the satrap of Sardis. Such support was, however, far 
more accessible to the Peisistratidse, who had fled to Sigeum 
and had relations of affinity with the tyrant of Lampsacus. 
Hippias brought over to his side Artaphernes, the king's 
brother, the same satrap of Sardis to whom the Athenians had 
applied. While, as we took occasion to remark, Peisistratua 
cherished Hellenic as opposed to Oriental views, it is obvious 
that, in complete antithesis to his policy, the restoration of his 
son would have meant the subjection of Athens to the Per- 
sians. The sequence of events all pointed to one end. The 
Greeks had lost their preponderance on the shores of the eastern 
Mediterranean; their colonics in Asia Minor had been over- 
powered, and they had been compelled to retire from their 



158 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

Thracian dominion. These evidences of superiority were 
soon accompanied by an interference with the islands, which 
threatened to extend even to the mother country. It cannot 
be denied that the energetic world of Greece was in danger 
of being crushed in the full course of its vigorous develop- 
ment. It might, indeed, be said that such a suppression of 
the Greek spirit in its strenuous upward effort would have 
been in the nature of things an impossibility. Undoubtedly, 
if events are determined by a controlling idea, the general 
tendency of human development could not have brought 
about the subjection of the Greeks to the Persians. But the 
history of mankind docs not move solely upon such transcen- 
dental ground. The historical question is, what the causes 
were which prevented such a result. One cause, no doubt, 
was that the Greeks had no central authority to barter away 
the freedom of the rest. They acted as a number of free and 
independent communities, some of which might perhaps be 
brought over, in which case, however, the rest would all the 
more certainly be compelled to opposition. The spontaneity 
which was characteristic of the Greeks was not to be recon- 
ciled with the attributes of supreme power in Persia. This 
was first made apparent amongst those whom the Persians 
had already subdued; they could not endure their dominion 
for any length of time. 

Let us endeavor to realize the situation and circumstances 
in which this opposition first manifested itself. The instru- 
ment by whom the crisis was brought about was not a person 
of any great importance. It is not always great natures, or 
natures strong in the consciousness of their own powers, that 
bring on such conflicts ; this is sometimes the work of those 
flexible characters which, being at the point of contact be- 
tween the opposing forces, pass from one side to the other. 
Such a character was Aristagoras of Miletus. It was that 
very enterprise against Naxos which he had himself suggested 
to the Persians that led to his separating himself from them. 
The reason was that a barbarous punishment was inflicted by 
the Persian general upon a guest-friend of Aristagoras, which 
the latter resented as an intolerable wrong, especially since 
the undertaking had, properly speaking, been intrusted to 



ARISTAGORAS OF MILETUS. 159 

himself, and the Persian leader had only the secondary part 
assigned to him. The Persians exacted subordination and 
strict discipline; the Greeks desired preferment in service 
and consideration for their own nationality. The failure in 
the enterprise against Naxos was in itself an event of im- 
portance, as it secured Euboea and the shores of conti- 
nental Greece. 13nt the division between the Persians and 
the Ionian Greeks, which resulted from that failure, is of 
more importance than the failure itself. The arch which the 
Persians had just erected was thus deprived of the key-stone 
in which all the peril of Greece was concentrated. 

Morally contemptible, but gifted intellectually with a range 
of ideas of unlimited extent, Aristagoras made for himself an 
imperishable name by being the first to entertain the thought 
of a collective opposition to the Persians on the part of all the 
Greeks, even contemplating the possibility of waging a great 
and successful offensive war upon them. Aristagoras began 
his undertaking with the fleet itself upon its return from 
Naxos. He succeeded by artifice in getting into his hands 
the tyrants who had taken part with their vessels in the at- 
tack upon Naxos, and he delivered them up to the cities which 
had only with reluctance endured their dominion. By this 
act he imparted to the most important of all Greek interests 
a movement destined to spread far and wide, lie announced 
in Miletus his own resignation of power and the restoration 
to the people of their old laws. The remaining cities also 
adopted a democratic constitution, and we may perhaps assume 
that in this the Ionians had been influenced by the example 
of Athens, where Cleisthcnes had carried out his plans of 
civil organization a short time before. A general overthrow 
of tyranny ensued, involving a revolt from Persia, and Strategi 
were everywhere appointed. The supreme power in the cities 
was based upon a good understanding between the holders of 
power and the Persians ; the fact that one of these rulers 
found the authority of the Persians intolerable was the signal 
for a universal revolt. Aristagoras himself voluntarily re- 
nounced the tyranny, the other tyrants were compelled to 
take the same course; and thus the cities, assuming at the same 
time a democratic organization, came into open hostility with 



KJQ GHEECE AND PERSIA. 

Persia. The Milesian Hecatrous, with his experience of history, 
had reminded his countrymen of the difficulty of setting them- 
selves free from Persia, a task which, in view of the power 
of the king, lie declared to be an impossibility ; the cities and 
islands which had so often been forced to submission could 
not hope to resist the Persians by their own unaided efforts. 
Even Aristagoras could not have expected so much. 

In his own ease the thought of opposition may have been 
suggested by his knowledge of the superiority of the Greek 
equipment to that of the Persians, lie conceived that the 
Orientals, with their turbancd heads, their long trousers, and 
their short swords, must inevitably succumb to the pupil of 
the naked pahestra, with his long shield, his mighty spear, 
and armor of bronze. He visited Lakedamion, the strongest 
of the Greek powers, in person, and endeavored to carry her 
with him in his plans. Before the Spartan king Cleomencs, 
who was personally inclined to enterprises of wide scope, he 
laid the first map of which we have distinct mention,""' a map 
drawn upon a sheet of copper, in which the separate provinces 
of the Persian Empire were marked by their frontiers, so that 
it no longer seemed a gigantic unity, but was grasped in detail. 
His object was to make Cleomencs comprehend the possibility 
of pushing through these provinces to Susa, the capital, and 
breaking up the whole empire by a single bold stroke. The 
Spartan king is said to have been admonished by his own 
daughter, still a child, who was present at his conversation 
with Aristagoras, not to let himself be bribed by the promises 
which the stranger was making to him. But there were other 
reasons for hesitating to accept the proposals of Aristagoras. 
The principal argument he adduced was that Laked;vmon was 
wasting her strength in a useless and bloody struggle with her 
neighbors, whilst the enterprise he proposed promised the 
greatest success and the richest spoil. But it was precisely 
the remoteness of the goal which deterred the Spartans from 
seriously weighing the proposal. Their whole energy was at 

* We do not attempt to determine whether this was the map of the 
world by lleeataais, but undoubtedly Miletus was the birthplace of car- 
tography. 



ARISTAGORAS OF MILETUS. 1G1 

that very time directed to those struggles with their neigh- 
bors in which they were still engaged. They were proud of 
having expelled Ilippias, and the disgrace of having been re- 
pulsed by the Athenians in the last campaign added fresh in- 
centives to their ambition. In meditating the restoration of 
Ilippias they were unconsciously acting as allies of the Per- 
sians. But, as in the last war, so now again their confederates 
separated from them. They would not assist in restoring 
tyranny, the oppression of which they had themselves most 
bitterly experienced. Sparta, whilst refusing to attempt the 
greater aim, failed to attain its general and immediate ends. 
' Rejected by Sparta, Aristngoras betook himself to Athens. 
The inducements which had failed to impress the king of 
Sparta produced upon the people of Athens just the effect 
which Aristagoras intended. We may suppose that the great 
idea of national union recommended itself to their minds, but 
besides this the cause of which Aristagoras was the champion 
was also their own. The restoration of Ilippias in the Per- 
sian interests would have imposed on them a double bondage 
under Ilippias and under the Persians. But they had now 
tasted of independence, and for the first time enjoyed to the 
full the advantages which it gave them over their neighbors. 
We are tempted to assign to this epoch their undertaking 
against Lemnos and Imbros, islands which they not only IIcl- 
lenized, but made, so to speak, a part of their republic; they 
had the courage to forestall the Persians in appropriating 
them.'* 

It was, at any rate, decisive of the issue that the Athenians 
granted Aristagoras twenty ships, to which the Eretrians, from 

* Grote, " History of Greece," iv. p. 37 : " The islands of Lemnos and 
Imbros seem to have passed into the power of the Athenians at the time 
when Ionia revolted from the Persians." It is permissible to read in 
Grote and elsewhere the various conjectures concerning the date of 
this occupation without being exactly convinced by any one of them. 
Throughout the whole epoch our sole authority is Herodotus, who is no 
chronologer, and rather follows events in their essential connection than 
in their exact sequence in point of time. In this account we shall follow 
his example in giving prominence only to the former method. That 
which is legendary we may leave to itself. 

11 



1G2 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

friendship to Miletus, added iive more. The courage of the 
tomans was thus revived, and an attack upon the Persian 
dominion commenced, directed, not indeed against Susa, but 
against. Sardis, in their immediate neighborhood, the capital 
of the satrapy which imposed on them their heaviest burdens. 
If Lvdia had given them her support, the course of events 
might have taken an entirely different turn. But the Lvdians 
were disarmed, and far removed from any sympathy with the 
Ionians. Sardis and its temples were consumed by fire in a 
tumultuous attack; the Greeks did not even venture an as- 
sault upon the citadel, and withdrew before the forces of the 
Persians as soon as those were gathered together. In their 
retreat they were overtaken and utterly defeated; but the 
event sufficed to raise the momentous issue. By the burning 
6f Sardis, in which a sanctuary of Ivybele had been destroyed, 
the Syrian nations had been outraged in the person of their 
gods. We know that it was part of the system of the Per- 
sians to take the gods of a country under their protection. 

Nor would the great king who thought himself appointed 
to be master o( the world fail to resent an invasion of his 
dominions as an insult calling for revenge. The hostile at- 
tempts o( the Ionians made no great impression upon him, 
but he asked who were the Athenians, of whose share in the 
campaign he had been informed. They were foreigners, of 
whose power the king had scarcely heard. It is said that 
Darius drew the bow, the symbol of power, and shot an ar- 
row into the sky, calling at the same time upon his god (whom 
the Greeks call Zeus, but who was doubtless the same whom 
the king mentions on his monuments, namely, Ahuramazda) 
to grant him vengeance, or rather chastisement, upon the 
Athenians. The enterprise of Aristagoras had meanwhile 
caused general commotion, lie had by far the larger part of 
Cyprus, together with the Carians, on his side. All the country 
near the Propontis and the Hellespont was in revolt. The 
Persians were compelled to make it their first concern to 
suppress this insurrection, a task which, if attempted by sea, 
did not promise to be an easy one. 

In their fust encounter with the Phoenicians the Ionians 
had the advantage. When, however, the forces of the great 



THE IONIAN REVOLT. 1G3 

empire were assembled, the insurrection was everywhere put 
down. In Cyprus this result was principally due to the want 
of union among- the Greeks themselves, in Caria to the supe- 
riority of the Persians in the field.* On a former occasion the 
Egyptians had proposed to unite their forces with those of 
the Greeks, against the Persians; now the Egyptian ships of 
war were combined with the Phoenicians. The Perso-Plueni- 
cian fleet appeared upon the sea with an overwhelming display 
of force. Yet the issue was not decided at once. Perhaps 
the Ionians who had collected their forces at Lade, then still 
an island, might have achieved a success if they had made an 
attack upon the Phoenician fleet. To this step the bravest of 
their leaders, Dionysius of Phoksea, who, however, had only 
contributed three triremes, endeavored to persuade them. But 
the Ionians were not inclined to submit to the rigorous train- 
ing which he prescribed. Besides this, they were told that 
even it* they succeeded in destroying this fleet the king would 
levy a power five times as great. Meanwhile the superiority 
of the Persian land forces had displayed itself, and amongst 
the Ionians the desponding conviction began to spread that 
all their efforts would be in vain. Whilst this impression 
was general the exhortations of the tyrants they had expelled, 
though at first rejected, found at last a hearing. Even the 
Samians thought it better to save their sanctuaries and then- 
property by submission than to forfeit them by resistance. 
Accordinglj', when the Phoenicians sailed to the attack on the 
fleet they encountered only a partial resistance, though the 
Chians, the countrymen of Homer, displayed conspicuous but 
unavailing bravery. The Ionians suffered a complete de- 
feat. After this, Miletus could not be retained, and towns and 

* "We can fix the date of these events, because Thukydides places the 
death of Aristagoras thirty-two years before the experiment made by the 
Athenians in the year 465-4 u.c. to colonize the neighborhood in which 
Amphipolis subsequently lay. Aristagoras, according to this, must have 
been put to death in 497-0. But before his decease Cyprus and Cavia had 
been subdued ; and Cyprus had maintained its freedom for one year (cf. 
Clinton on the year 497). The year of freedom must, therefore, have 
been 499-8. This was preceded by the insurrection of Ionia, which may 
accordingly be assigned to the year 500. 



lG-± GREECE AND PERSIA. 

islands in rapid succession fell into the hands of the Persians. 
To lay waste districts and raze cities to the ground was no 
part of their policy; they employed their victory to introduce 
a regular government, such as might bring about a lasting 
subjection. They made provision to deter the Ionians from 
disturbing the peace of the country by dissensions with one 
another. After some time they even abolished the tyranny, 
the existence of which only continued to interfere with the 
establishment of a uniform obedience. Athens had taken no 
part in the naval war, but yet she felt the misfortune of the 
Ionians as her own. The poet who represented it upon the 
stage was punished ; the Athenians felt that in the course 
things were taking the next blow would fall on themselves. 
They were compelled to prepare to defend themselves single- 
handed against the gigantic and overwhelming power of the 
Great King. 

It must be reckoned among the consequences of the battle 
of Lade, by which the combination against the Persian empire 
had been annihilated, that King Darius, not content with hav- 
ing consolidated his dominion in Ionia, once more resumed 
the plan of pushing forward into Europe, of which his enter- 
prise against the Scythians formed part. With the execution 
of this project he commissioned one of the principal persons 
of the empire and the court, the son of one of the seven Per- 
sians who had taken so great a share in the elevation of the 
Achromcnidre, Mardonius by name, whom he united to his 
own family by marrying him to his daughter. To Mardonius 
are to be ascribed the institutions lately established in Ionia. 
This general crossed the Hellespont* with a large army, his 
fleet always accompanying him along the shore whilst he 
pushed on by the mainland. He once more subdued Make- 
donia, probably the districts which had not yet, like the Make- 
don ian king, been brought into subjection, and gave out that 
his aim was directed against Eretria and Athens, the enemies 
of the king. For the execution of this design it seemed in- 
dispensable that he should subdue the whole of the mainland, 
barbarian and Greek, without distinction. Yet this was more 

* 492 B.C. according to Clinton, 493 according to Cnrtius. 



FIRST PERSIAN INVASION. 105 

than he could compass. la the stormy waters near Mount 
Athos, which have always made the navigation of the .zEgean 
difficult, his fleet suffered shipwreck. But without naval sup- 
ports he could not hope to gain possession of an island and a 
maritime town situated on a promontor} r . Even by land he 
encountered resistance, so that he found it advisable to post- 
pone the further execution of his undertakings to another 
time. Yet the situation was so far unchanged that the Per- 
sian power as a whole continued to expand, and threatened 
the life of Greece with extinction. 

The majority of the cities and towns complied with the 
demand made upon them and gave the king earth and water. 
In order to subdue the recalcitrants, especially Athens and 
Eretria, another attempt was organized without delay. Under 
two generals, one of whom, Datis, was a Mede, the other 
Artaphernes, the son of the satrap of Sardis of the same name, 
and brother of the Darius who was in alliance with Hippias, 
a maritime expedition was undertaken for the immediate sub- 
jugation of the islands and the maritime districts. It was 
not designed for open hostility against the Greeks in general. 
"Why flee ye, holy men?" said the Persians to those of Delos. 
Datis burned three hundred pounds of incense at the shrine 
venerated as the birthplace of the two deities. The religion 
of Ahuramazda did not forbid them to take foreign worships 
under their protection, and they were anxious not to have the 
Greek gods against them. Their design was to utilize the 
internal dissensions of Greece in conquering the principal 
enemies upon whom the Great King had sworn vengeance, 
and presenting them as captives at his feet. The project 
succeeded in the case of Eretria. In spite of a brave resistance 
it fell by treachery into their hands, and they could avenge 
the sacrilege committed at Sardis by plundering and devastat- 
ing Grecian sanctuaries. They expected now to be able to 
overpower Athens also without much trouble. Her enemies, 
amongst them the .zEginetans, had sent to the king the tokens 
of subjection, mainly in order to assure themselves of his 
support against her. Moreover, the Peisistratidre still had in 
the city and rural districts a party which Hippias, who acted 
as guide to the Persians, hoped to rouse to exertion. In a 



100 GREECE AND TEKSIA. 

Straight line from that part of the coast which lay opposite 
the now subjugated Eubosa, he hoped to be able to push along 

the familiar road to Athens. Xo one as yet had been able to 
make a stand before the terror of the Persian arms, It was 
unlikely that the Athenians would venture on a struggle 
which, according to all previous experience, offered no pros- 
pect ot* success. The moment was one of the most important 
in their history. If the Persians had conquered Athens the 
doom of the democracy would probably have been sealed for- 
everj the dominion of the Peisistratida? would have been 
restored, and it would have been no longer the old dominion, 
but one far more violent, and supported by a league with 
Persia. Athens in all probability would have fallen into the 
same condition as that which had once been the lot of the 
Ionian cities under the tyrants. The Persian spirit would 
gradually have predominated over every other influence. 

It was a circumstance of great value to the Athenians that 
there was a man amongst them who was familiar with the 
Persian tactics. This was Miltiades, the son of Kimon. The 
old and distinguished family from which he was descended 
had risen to power in the process of colonizing the Thracian 
Chersonese, and twenty years before the date of these events 
Miltiades had succeeded to their position; he possessed a kind 
of princedom there, and united himself in marriage to the 
daughter of a Thracian prince. Thus lie had already come 
into contact with the Persians. It was no fault of his that 
the bridge over the .Danube over which King Darius had 
passed to invade the Scythians remained unbroken. When, 
subsequently, in consequence of the failure of the attempt on 
Sard is, that reaction took place which prompted the Persians 
to take steps for the reduction of the islands of the -Egean, 
he found it impossible, especially as he was hard pressed by 
other enemies as well, to maintain his ground upon the Cher- 
sonese, lie had retired before the Persian fleet, and with 
four triremes — for the fifth fell into their hands — had readied 
Athens. Although a Thracian prince, he had never ceased to 
be a eiti.'.en of Athens. Here lie was impeached for having 
held a tyranny, but was acquitted and chosen stratcgus, for 
democracy could not reject a man who was so admirably 



MARATHON. 1G7 

qualified to be at their head in the interchange of hostilities 
with Persia. Miltiades was conducting his own personal quar- 
rel in undertaking the defence of Attica. 

The force of the Persians was indeed incomparably the 
larger,-' but the plains of Marathon, on which they were 
drawn up, prevented their proper deployment, and they saw 
with astonishment the Athenian hoplites displaying a front 
as extended as their own. These troops now rushed upon 
them with an impetus which grew swifter at every moment. 
The Persians easily succeeded in breaking through the centre 
of the Athenian army ; but that was of no moment, for the 
strength of the onset lay in the two wings, where now began 
a hand-to-hand fight. The Persian sword, formidable else- 
where, was not adapted to do good service against the bronze 
armor and the spear of the Hellenes. On both flanks the 
Athenians obtained the advantage, and now attacked the 
Persian centre, which was not able to withstand the onslaught 
of men whose natural vigor was heightened by gymnastic 
training. The Persians, to their misfortune, had calculated 
upon desertion in the ranks of their opponents : foiled in this 
hope, they retreated to the shore and to their ships.f 



* Justin (ii. 9, 9) estimates their number at G00,000 men, Cornelius Ne- 
pos (Miltiades, c. 4, 2) at 100,000 infantry and 10,000 cavalry. Even from 
this total much must be deducted, for, as the troops had to be brought 
over by sea, their number could not have been so immense. On the other 
hand, the Athenians and Plaheans have been estimated at 10,000 men 
(Nepos, Miltiades, c. 5, 1). Justin reckons 10,000 Athenians, 1000 Pla- 
taeans. But when we consider that the Athenians put forth all their 
strength, and that later on at Platoca, although a great part of them were 
in the fleet, they set 1G,000 men in the field, we may, perhaps, feel some 
doubts as to the scantiness of their numbers. Mitford (" History of 
Greece," ii. Ill) supposes 15,000 heavy-armed men and as many or even 
more light-armed. Bockh reminds us (" Die Staatshaushaltung der Athe- 
ner," i. p. 276) that the estimates are only to be understood of the num- 
ber of the hoplites. 

t The battle of Marathon falls in the archonship of Phsenippus, 01. 72, 
3=490 B.C., in the fifth year before the death of Darius and the tenth 
before the enterprise of Xerxes against Greece (cf. Clinton, "Fasti Hell." 
ii. under this year, and p. 24G). The day of the battle is said by Plu- 
tarch to have been the 6th of Boedromion. Some modern writers, how- 



[68 GREECE and PERSIA. 

Berodotna intimates that the Persians had secret intelli- 
gence with B party in Athens,* ami took their course round 
the promontory o( Sunium towards the city, in the hope of 
surprising it. l>ut when they came to anchor the Athenians 
had arrived also, ami they saw themselves once more con- 
fronted by the victors of Marathon. 

The truth o( the distinction which Aristagoras once drew 
between the CI recks and the Orientals was now continued, 
not, indeed, in an attack such as he, anticipating the remote 
future, had suggested, but in resistance. They had not made 
a OOll quest, bul Athens had been saved. I am not inclined 
to cloud the splendor of their exploit by a calculation of 
probabilities, for which extant traditions are quite inade- 
quate to form the basis. It was a blow which the Persians 
attempted in overwhelming force by Land and sea, parried by 
the Athenians with dexterous boldness and under successful 
generalship, an occurrence o( no great compass in a military 
sense, but pregnant with the future and like a solemn utter- 
ance of destiny. 

King Darius, in whom the spirit of the Persian power was 
so faithfully mirrored, was still living. Heat least succeeded 
in remedying by forethought the great defect attaching to 
monarchy in the East, the uncertainty of the succession. 
Among the sons borne to him by different wives he appoint- 
ed the one who was an Aclnetnenid also on the mother's side, 
Xerxes (Khshay&rsh&), to be his successor; so that a contest 
for the throne, such as so often broke out in later times, was 
avoided. The empire was at the climax of its power and 
prosperity. The disastrous attack on Attica was accompanied 
bv a commotion in Egypt. Darius subdued it, and it seemed 

ever, have thought it probable that Plutarch has confused the day of 
thanksgiving with that of the battle. In particular this is the opinion 
of B&ckh ( u Zur Qeschichte dor Mondcyclen der Hellenen," p. 66 sq.^; 
he assigns tin- battle to the 17th ofMetageitnion=2 Sept 

• The alcmseonidn, as many supposed: but the charge is. with good 
reason, contradicted by Herodotus, vi. 116, 10 1 Bq, The Alcmseonidn 
expelled EEippias, whom the Persians were endeavoring to restore, and 

introduced the democracy, to which the vigorous resistance of Athens 
was ohieflj due. 



\1K\KS. | ( ;.) 

quite certain that he would now resume the enterprise against 
Greeoe, when in the year 485 lie died. 

We read with pleasure, in Eerodotus, the deliberations 
whioh the young Xerxes, an early Porphyrogenitus, is said 
to have held upon the renewal «>t' a campaign against the 
Greeks. We gather from it all that could be said for and 
against the expedition. In its favor was the proud oonvicr 
tioh which the Persians cherished, that they were the first 
race in the world, and that to them belonged universal do- 
minion, the solo obstacle in their way being the resistance Of 
the Greeks; if this were overpowered, the sir of Leaven 
would form the sole limit o( their empire. Against il were 
urged the disastrous experiences ^A' the last, oampaigns of eon- 
quest undertaken by Cyrus, Oambyses, and Darius himself; 
and thus occasion is taken to bring into prominence the idea 
of the Greek religion that the ^n\* show no favor to those 

Who have reached too high a pinnacle of greatness. Never 

theless, the resolution was taken, upon the ground of men- 
acing dreams whioh constantly reonrred. Thai this account 
really accords with facts no one would think of maintaining; 

it. constitutes the beginning Of that historic epos which He- 
rodotus has left to posterity, a work constructed with mar- 
vellous narrative power, but not without n legendary element 
mingled with authentic history. To an historian living in a 
later age it might seem that the enterprise could soaroely have 
been the subject of much debate. The expedition of Datis 

and Arlaphernes had only been an attempt to decide the issue 

at a single blow. It was frustrated ; and the undertaking was 
resumed which Mardoniua had formerly contemplated in the 
course of the campaign beyond the Danube, and had begun 
to execute on an extensive scale, but which had been inter- 
rupted in consequence of unforeseen disasters. It is very 
intelligible that a young prince who had just ascended the 

throne should have taken it in hand. Me did so, putting 
forth all his resources in the full consciousness that it was a 
task of the very widest scope. It would he unprofitable to 
repeat the details which Herodotus gives in a narrative in 
which Persian and Grecian legends are interwoven. Yet, 
amid the rest, some facts of historical value emerge. In the 



170 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

work of bridging the Hellespont we are made sensible of the 
difference between the times of Darius and those of Xerxes. 
Under Darius the Ionians had been the artificers of the bridge; 
under Xerxes it was chiefly the Phoenicians and Egyptians 
who were engaged on it. The ropes of the first bridge were 
made of flax ; those of the second of papyrus. The whole 
was the work of the most skilful craftsmen among the Ori- 
entals."* The same hands also pierced through the isthmus 
which connects Mount Athos with the mainland, so that the 
ships could avoid the dangers with which Mardonius had to 
struggle in rounding the promontory. Not merely for the 
campaign in which they were engaged, but for the general 
command of the ^Egean Sea, the undertaking was of the 
greatest importance, and it appears indisputable that the skill 
of the Oriental nations in marine engineering proved equal to 
the task.f 

In the Thermaic Gulf Xerxes united his forces on land 
and sea. Both were of colossal dimensions; the land forces 
are estimated at more than a million warriors, with the addi- 
tion of 80,000 cavalry, the number of the ships at more than 
1200. In the army it would seem the Persians had the ex- 
clusive command ; on sea the Phoenician squadron was the 
most considerable. It was a display of power fitted to sup- 
port the Persian claim to the empire of the world. On the 
other hand, the Greeks were disunited and careless. Not 
only the Aleuadse in Thessaly, whose object it was to secure 
for themselves the dominion in that country, but also power- 
ful cities and communities, such as Argos and Thebes, which 
supposed that in this way they were best providing for their 
security, came over to the king's side. The sentiment of 
Panhellenism was only in the germ, and far from sufficient 
to unite the divided cities and districts. It is affirmed of 
Gelon, the tyrant of Syracuse, that he was only awaiting the 
event in order to submit to the Persians, if, as was to be ex- 

* The expression in Herod, vii. 36, " other master builders " (d\\oi apxi- 
TiKTortg), applied to those employed after the first mishap, implies no 
change of nationality, but only a change of persons. 

t As regards the fact of this achievement, I side with Leake and Grote 
(" History of Greece," v. p. 30). 



SECOND PERSIAN INVASION. 171 

pected, the victory rested with them, because he might then 
have counted upon finding support from the Great King 
against the Carthaginians, by whom he was hard pressed at 
the time. Strictly speaking, it is only Sparta and Athens 
that can be regarded as determined enemies to the Persians. 
They had thrown the heralds of the late king, when they de- 
manded the tokens of subjection, into pits or wells, and had 
bidden them fetch earth and water from thence. They had 
now to apprehend the vengeance of the king, and therefore 
held together, without, however, any real bond of sympathy. 

The greatest danger for the Greeks lay in the combination 
of the Persian military and naval forces. The first attempt 
at resistance, made by a body of men gathered in the vale of 
Tempo, in numbers which might have been formidable in a 
struggle among the mountains, had to be abandoned, since 
the Persian fleet was able at any moment to land troops who 
would have attacked the defending force in the rear. In a 
second position, which the Greeks resolved to maintain, their 
maritime armament was far better able to co-operate with 
their land force. Whilst the Spartans, under their kino- Le- 
onidas, held the pass of Thermopylte, the Athenians, with 
daring courage, defended the strait between the mainland 
and the promontory of Artemisium, in Eubcea. The conduct 
of the Spartans at Thermopylae was characterized by steadfast 
valor and obedience to their laws, and has supplied a model 
for all later time; but they fell a sacrifice to overwhelming 
numbers, and to that treachery which even here was found 
at work. In consequence of this the Athenian fleet had to 
withdraw from the strait, and the stream of Persian con- 
quest swept on unchecked. The greater part of the Greek 
populations — Bceotia, Phokis, Doris — joined the Great King. 
It is strange to note that claims of mythological origin, based 
especially on Perseus and the Phrygian Pelops, recurred to 
men's memories. Sparta was only concerned to bar the pas- 
sage by land into the Peloponnesus, and the Persians were 
able to push without impediment into the territory of Attica. 

We must bear in mind the whole situation in order to 
do justice to the resolution formed by the Athenians. The 
armed force which returned from Artemisium no sooner land- 



172 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

ed than they caused proclamation to be made that every one 
should leave the country with all that belonged to him, 
and that all capable of bearing arms should be prepared to 
serve in the fleet. We do not find it distinctly stated, at any 
rate in our oldest authority, that this step was taken in con- 
sequence of a vote of the democratic assembly.* There is, 
however, an irresistible force of circumstances which controls 
the resolves of men. There was no other course open. The 
oracle of Delphi had announced in mysterious language that 
all was lost, but to a second despairing appeal had replied by 
directing that Athens should protect herself behind wooden 
walls. On this occasion the Athenians profited by the pres- 
ence amongst them of one who was at once a born sailor and 
a man of the widest ideas. This was Themistocles, who had 
already persistently directed all the resources of the republic, 
even to the neglect of every individual interest, to increasing 
the power of his state at sea. Never had any city possessed 
a navy at all comparable to that of Athens, and, in spite of all 
her losses at Artemisium, she had emerged from that contest 
with the glory of successful seamanship. Although others 
wished to interpret the oracle by a reference to antiquity, 
the explanation of Themistocles, that by the wooden walls 
were meant the ships, found most support. The Athenians 
obeyed the command without resistance, yet, as may well be 
imagined, not without pain. They left their country, in- 
trusting, as it were, its numerous sanctuaries to the protec- 
tion of the gods. Nevertheless, the Persians encountered no 

* In later authors a resolution to this effect is ascribed to the assembly 
of the people or to the Areopagus as invested with extraordinary powers 
(Plutarch, " Themist." c. 10 ; Cicero, "De Officiis," i. "20, 75). In Herod- 
otus nothing of the kind is stated. His words would lead us to suppose 
that the order had proceeded immediately from the commanders of the 
fleet (viii. 41) : 'AOiji'aloi Karscrxov ig ti)v tavrwv. /(fr<i ?i ti)v u7rit.ii> K))pv- 
y/xa tTroo'/ffttiTO, 'ABtjvaiwv ry nfi dvvarai fnu-fu' tu rtKi'a ts kcii rove ouceraff. 
The armed force declared that the country could not be saved, and that 
the security of its inhabitants was only to be found in flight to Salamis 
or other places of safety; the step is not attributed to the orders of the 
tribunal named above, or to any regularly conducted deliberation. Nev- 
ertheless, that which the commanders of the fleet proclaimed recommend- 
ed itself to the judgment of the country. 



SECOND PERSIAN INVASION. 173 

obstacle in taking possession of it, and the lofty Acropolis 
and the temple of Aglaurus with the everlasting olive were 
burned. The Peisistratida?, who on this occasion also accom- 
panied the invading army, found only a scanty remnant of 
the inhabitants gathered round the priests in charge of the 
temples; all the rest had evacuated the country and taken to 
the ships. This may fairly be reckoned the greatest among 
the great resolves recorded in history ; it reminds us of the 
Gueux, betaking themselves with all their possessions to their 
ships, to find there a refuge for their freedom. But the self- 
devotion of the Athenians far excelled theirs. We might be 
tempted to set the evacuation of Attica beside the burning of 
Moscow. Yet comparisons are of little service. When all is 
said, the action retains a local and individual stamp which con- 
stitutes its character and its title to fame. 

The immediate question was, how far a migration of this 
kind could lead to the desired end. Themistocles found 
himself looked upon in the council of the allies as one with- 
out a home. With a proud consciousness of his own dignity, 
he protested that the home of Athens was now within her 
walls of wood, and that, if the Athenians were left unsup- 
ported in Greece, they would seek a new country for them- 
selves in Italy. His own design, however, supported by the 
inclination of the people embarked in the fleet, was, to bring 
on a decisive naval battle in the immediate neighborhood. 
To those who opposed him, many of whom would have pre- 
ferred to retreat to the Isthmus, Themistocles represented 
that, on the withdrawal of the fleet, the Persian army would 
make a forward movement, which would put the Pelopon- 
nesus into serious danger, and that, without the assistance of 
the Athenians, the rest of the allies would certainly be lost, 
whilst in the open sea, near the Isthmus, they would tight at 
a greater disadvantage than in the narrow Gulf of Salami's. 
Everything goes to show that the Greeks were under an ab- 
solute necessity of fighting on the spot — the Athenians be- 
cause they were resolved either never to leave their native 
land while they saw it in the possession of the enemy, or to 
leave it at once and forever ; the rest because they could not 
acquiesce in the departure of the Athenians without hazard- 



174 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

ing their own existence. Xerxes did not doubt that he should 
master both elements of opposition, and, confident of victory, 
caused a throne to be erected upon the rocks by the sea-shore, 
that he might witness in person the heroism of his sailors.* 
He believed that he was directing the final blow which was 
to make Hellas his own. 

But at this very moment he ceased to be master of the sit- 
uation, for he allowed himself to be tempted by the cunning 
Athenian into bringing on the decisive issue in the waters of 
a gulf, where his superiority of force could not be displayed 
with advantage. The Persian vessels, advancing; in the ex- 
pectation of finding their enemy in flight, were received by 
the spirited poean of the Greeks, which — so the narrative runs 
— was re-echoed from the roadsteads of the island and the 
shores of the mainland. Themistocles awaited his opportu- 
nity, and restrained for a brief interval the advance of the 
Greek vessels, until the hour when the wind usually begins 
to blow more strongly, and raises a chopping sea in the gulf. 
This was a point in favor of the Greeks, for the Phoenician 
vessels, more cumbrous in their movements, were ill adapted 
to a struggle in narrow waters. This was the time chosen by 
Themistocles for beginning the main attack. He had no 
need to fear that his line would be turned. His one aim was 
to throw the approaching enemy into confusion by a vigorous 
and well-directed onset, and to drive them back. The result 
was due, above all, to the fact that, whilst the Persian king 
watched the emulous efforts of the various maritime nations 
united beneath his sway as one observing a spectacle, the 
leader of the Greeks, straining all the resources of his genius 
and his skill, and profiting by every advantage, commanded 
in person a people whose whole future depended upon the 
victory of the hour. The different squadrons of the Persian 
fleet were incapable of concerted action. Upon the first un- 
expected success of the Greeks they fell into disorder and 
confusion. Artemisia, Queen of Halicarnassus, who was serv- 
ing under the Persians, ran into and sunk a ship belonging to 

* The presence of Xerxes is mentioned by Herodotus (viii. 90) and by 
Plutarch (Themistocles, c. 13). 



SAL AMIS. 175 

them in order to secure her own safety. Whilst the Persian 
ships were retiring from the struggle with the Athenians they 
were intercepted, and some of them captured, by the vessels 
of the .zEginetans, who now in the general peril had come to 
the support of the Athenians, and exchanged their old jeal- 
ousy for honorable emulation. The demeanor of Xerxes as 
he sat upon his throne, his astonishment, his horror, his de- 
spair, are incidents of capital importance in the epic story of 
Herodotus. The success of his whole undertaking depended, 
in fact, upon success in a naval engagement. He was now 
conscious that he was defeated, but if his fleet lost the com- 
mand of the sea even his return was imperilled, and with it 
the stability of the whole empire.* How great was the anx- 
iety for the king's safe return is evidenced by the story that, 
in the overladen ship which was conveying him past the north- 
ern gulfs of the iEgean Sea, he fancied himself in personal 
danger, but had only to say that now he should see who loved 
him, when a number of Persians at once flung themselves into 
the sea to secure their sovereign's life. 

Whilst the Persians thus showed how closely their internal 
organization and foreign dominion were bound up in the life 
of the king, as a necessary factor in their own existence, the 
Greeks, on their part, did nothing to endanger his personal 
safety or prevent his return. On the other hand, with a loyal 
attachment to their gods, they did not doubt that they would 
avenge on the Persians the injuries they had inflicted on their 
temples and their religious rites. Nevertheless, this did not 
tempt them to form plans of attack, such as those which had 
formerly been amongst the dreams of Aristagoras. But they 
had now, as they thought, certain evidence that the gods were 

* The battle of Salamis falls in the archonship of Calliades (Maruior 
Parium, ep. 51 ; cf. Herod, viii. 51), 480 b.c. As to the day of the battle, 
Plutarch, gives several discordant dates, of which only that under Ca- 
millus, c. 19, can be harmonized with the narrative of Herodotus. Ideler 
(" Handbuch der mathematischen und technischcn Chronologie," i. p. 
309) cannot make up his mind between September 23 — the day adopted 
by Petavius — and October 20, preferred by Dodwell. Bockh (" Zur Ge- 
schichte der Mondcyclen bei den Hellenen," p. 74) assigns the battle to 
September 20. 



170 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

not minded to see Asia and Europe united under one ruler — in 
other words, that the gods had not appointed Hellas to form 
a portion of the Persian empire. The task immediately before 
them was, accordingly, to compel the retreat of the Persians 
who were still encamped on Grecian soil. In the ensuing 
summer we see the two fleets lying opposite to each other, 
the Persians near Samos, the Greeks near Delos, without, 
however, joining battle. Everything depended upon the issue 
of the struggle by land. Mardonius, who had conducted the 
first expedition, and had made preparations for the second, 
had no intention of giving way. He still felt confident of 
bringing about a decision in favor of the Persians ; he de- 
signed even to bring the Athenians over to his side by restor- 
ing their land and recognizing their independence. In this 
he completely misconstrued the temper which his attacks 
had aroused in the people of Attica. Only one man, named 
Lykidas, was found in Salamis to advise submitting these pro- 
posals to the people. The mere thought was enough to ex- 
cite the fury of the multitude. Lykidas was stoned by the 
people, and as, when the traitor was stoned at Jericho, all his 
house had to expiate his offence, so now the Athenian women 
stoned the Avife and children of the obnoxious person. Who- 
ever took part in a trespass against the gods of the country 
was to be wiped from the face of the earth. 

It is well known that all the Greeks did not share the 
enthusiasm of the Athenians. A number of the Greek pop- 
ulations were still ranged on the side of the Medo-Persians. 
But now Lakedaemon roused herself in support of Athens. 
The republics so fundamentally opposed to each other, the 
1 )euios of the Spartiatoe and the Demos of Athens, made com- 
mon cause. The danger was still pressing. Mardonius had 
quitted Attica because it offered no ground suitable for his 
cavalry. The Athenians had already returned in great num- 
bers. They marshalled their forces to the number of 8000 
heavy-armed men at Eleusis. They would scarcely have been 
able to defend themselves against a renewed invasion, and 
probably they would have been ruined, if the Spartans had 
not brought the power of Peloponnesus to their support. 
On a former occasion, when the Spartans had in view the 



PLATiEA. 177 

conquest of Athens, it was at Eleusis that the Peloponnesians 
had separated from them. Now, when the general freedom 
was at stake, they came to their aid ; to this extent, at any 
rate, the idea of Panhellenism had infused itself into their 
political life. Corinth set 5000 men in the field, Sikyon and 
Megara 3000 men eacli ; small contingents presented them- 
selves from .zEgina, the Arcadian towns, and the shores and 
plains in the neighborhood. The 5000 Spartiatce, led by 
their king, Pansanias, the guardian of the young son left by 
Leonidas, were each attended by seven helots. They were 
joined by an equal force of the Perioeki, heavily armed. All 
ranks of the population, the rulers, the ruled, the freemen, 
were united. The number of the whole army is reckoned at 
more than 100,000 men; but it was absolutely without cav- 
alry, whereas it was in their cavalry that the strength of the 
Persians chiefly consisted. The eye surveys a strange scene as 
it glances now at the Greeks, whose varieties of aspect marked 
the different localities from which they were gathered, and 
now at the host of Asiatics by whom they were confronted. 

Mardonins had under him not only Persians, but Medes, 
the principal representatives of the ancient Iran, Bactrians, 
even Indians of kindred stock, and finally some Scythian 
troops, the Sakae. These he ranged opposite to the Lakeda?- 
monians and their Dorian allies ; to the Athenians, on the 
other hand, he opposed the Greeks who had come over to 
his side, the Boeotians, Locrians, Phokians, and Thessalians. 
The shock of the two armies took place in the marches of 
the Platsean territory. It promised, one might suppose, to be 
a battle of the two nations in the grand style. Yet it did 
not, in fact, prove to be so. Mardonins was indisputably the 
better prepared. His cavalry, which had sustained some few 
losses, but had not been materially weakened, prevented the 
conveyance of provisions over Mount Kithaaron, and even cut 
off the Greeks from the water of the Asopus. A spring which 
supplied them ceased to run, and they saw themselves com- 
pelled to look out for another position. At the very crisis 
of this dangerous movement they were attacked by the 
Persians. There was every probability that they would bo 
defeated, especially since even at this juncture they were lit- 

12 



178 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

tie subservient to command, and each troop acted without 
concert and according to its own inclination. Mardonius had 
once ere this proposed to the Lakedremonians to bring the 
great struggle between barbarians and Greeks to a decision 
by a kind of duel between champions selected from the 
flower of the Spartan and Persian warriors. ]STo answer had 
been returned to this suggestion, but the course of events 
brought about something which resembled it. When the 
cavalry had desisted from the pursuit, the best-disciplined of 
the Persian troops advanced to fight out their quarrel with 
the Spartans, the flower of the Greek army. Then, however, 
was manifested the great distinction between barbarians and 
Hellenes. The former could, indeed, employ their offensive 
weapons with skill, but they had no defensive armor. Throw- 
ing themselves upon the Spartans in small companies of ten 
men each, they were crushed at all points, and had to abandon 
the struggle. Mardonius, whose presence was recognized 
through the white horse on which he rode, fell, mortally 
wounded, at the same time. His death caused a general dis- 
couragement among the Persians. They hastened back to 
their camp, which was not adequately fortified. It is strange 
that in both battles minor incidents — the rapid advance of 
the Athenians at Marathon, the resolute stand made by the 
Spartans at Platcea — were decisive of the issue. The Persian 
camp yielded to the attack of the Greeks, among whom this 
time the Athenians once more bore off the palm by their 
readiness of resource. A hideous massacre annihilated the 
army which had been designed for the conquest of Greece. 
One detachment, indeed, led by a Persian, had taken no part 
in the battle. They retreated in haste, owing their freedom 
from molestation to the fact that the news of the defeat had 
not } T et spread, and went first into Thrace and next to Byzan- 
tium, whence vessels conveyed them over into Asia. 

The enterprise owed its conception to Mardonius, who 
perished in the course of it. Two brief encounters by sea 
and by land had sufficed to frustrate the attempts of the Per- 
sians to obtain a foothold in Europe and subdue Hellas. To 
appreciate the contrast between the contending powers it is 
sufficient to call to mind the proposal made to the Spartan 



MYCALE. 170 

king, Pausanias, to avenge Leonidas, whose body had been 
impaled by the Persians, by treating the corpse of Mardonius 
in the same manner. Pausanias rejected the proposition as 
an outrage, and forbade its renewal; it was worthy, he said, 
of a barbarian, not of a Greek. A whole world of reflections 
is suggested by this refusal. The contrast between East and 
West is expressed by it in characters which were destined to 
be distinctive of their subsequent history. 

At the same moment that the Persian power was over- 
thrown in Hellas the supremacy of the Hellenes in the 
^Egean Sea became a reality. The occurrence of both bat- 
tles on the same day, and the apparently miraculous transmis- 
sion of the news of the victory at Platsea to the shores of 
Ionia, may raise questions which we prefer to leave open. 
Yet it is obvious that both events were homogeneous in the im- 
pulses from which they sprang and the consequences to which 
they led. The Persian fleet left its station at Samos, prob- 
ably because it had become evident that no reliance could be 
placed on the Ionians, in whose shipping the maritime strength 
of the Persians consisted. The Phoenicians entirely gave up 
their share in the struggle and sailed homewards. To save 
the rest of the ships there seemed to be no other course open 
but to draw them up on the shore and to secure them against 
hostile attack by means of a rampart. Thus the crews of the 
vessels fought with each other upon land, the scene of action 
being the promontory of Mycale. Here, again, the superior 
skill of the Greeks prevailed over the valor of the Persians. 
The question is said to have been discussed whether the 
Ionians who had been faithful to the Hellenic cause might 
not be transplanted once more to their native soil, and placed 
in possession of the districts of those tribes who had sympa- 
thized with Persia; but such a transference was an under- 
taking of too wide a scope to be attempted. All that was 
finally achieved was the admission of the most important isl- 
ands, Lesbos, Chios, and Samos, into the Symmachia, or war- 
like confederacy of the Hellenes. The islanders took a solemn 
vow not to desert that alliance. This of itself was a success 
of even greater moment for the future than for the present. 
But the integrity of the Persian empire was undisturbed. 



ISO GREECE AND PERSIA. 

The invasion of Greece by the Persians must be placed in 
the same category with their undertakings against the Massa- 
getse, the Ethiopians, and the nomad Scythians, all being at- 
tempts to extend the empire beyond its natural limits. In 
the other countries on the Persian frontier the resistance was 
only passive ; in Greece it took the extremely active form 
which henceforward characterized it throughout. 

For the immediate present, however, that active opposition 
was impeded, or rather interrupted, by internal divisions. As 
a rule a war marked by great events is succeeded by civil dis- 
turbances even in the states which have issued victorious 
from the struggle. This was the case after the Persian war 
even in Sparta, secured though she was by her rigorous legal 
system. It was obviously inconsistent to intrust the kings 
with the conduct of the army, uncontrolled as yet by the 
presence of an aristocratic council,* and, after they had grown 
accustomed to universal obedience, and had returned with 
the glory earned by great achievements, to attempt to subject 
them to the rigorous censorship of the Ephors. It may easily 
be conceived that the two Spartan kings who had rendered 
the greatest service to the common cause, Pausanias by land, 
Leotychides at the head of the naval force, declined to sub- 
mit after their return to the laws by which their power was 
fettered. They were compelled, first the one and then the 
other, to go into exile. Leotychides took refuge with the 
Arcadians, f who were independent members of the league; 
Pausanias retired to Byzantium, where his proximity to the 
Persian frontier gave him a certain independence, so much so 
that he incurred the suspicion of desiring to ally himself with 
the king of Persia. The Spartiatre required Pausanias to re- 
turn, and threatened to wage war upon him if he refused. 

The opposition of the kings to the aristocracy went hand 
in hand with a movement among their subjects, who also had 

* According to Thuk. v. G3, the law, in virtue of which ten ovfifiovXoi 
were assigned to the king, was not enacted till the year 418. 

t Leotychides was accused of treason to the state; it was alleged that 
he might have conquered all Thessaly, but had allowed himself to be 
bribed, and was caught in the fact (in avrotywpy ciXoi'f) with his hand 
full of silver (Herod, vi. 72). ' 



PAUSANIAS. 181 

taken part in the war ; and it would seem as if the kings bad 
designed to set themselves at their head and deliver them- 
selves from the fetters of the aristocracy. But the latter had 
grown too powerful to be displaced. The victor of Platsea, 
who had obeyed the injunction to return, came to a miserable 
end. Religious scruples forbade his enemies to slay him in 
the sanctuary in which he had sought asylum, or to drag him 
away by force, but they removed the roof and sealed the door. 
They kept him prisoner thus until he was exhausted by hun- 
ger, and only dragged him forth when he was breathing his 
last.* Leotychides was too cautious to return, and died at 
Tegea. But the death of Pausanias was closely connected 
with an insurrection of the helots and a revolt of the Messe- 
nians, while the flight of Leotychides to Tegea is associated 
with a war with Arcadia and Argos. This war was only 
brought to a close after two great battles, whilst the helots 
were not suppressed without a similar effort. We here ob- 
tain a glance into a world in ferment, where the monarchy, 
in its effort for independence, makes common cause with the 
insubordinate members of the league and their own revolted 
subjects. It was only by the severest struggles that the aris- 
tocracy prevailed. They were even compelled, in order to 
subdue the Messenians, to invoke the assistance of the Athe- 
nians, although the latter regarded the Messenians as of kin- 
dred stock with themselves. 

Ferments still more violent had broken out in the Athe- 
nian commonwealth. Heads of the state are equally indis- 
pensable to republics, whether democratic or oligarchical, and 
yet are equally intolerable to either. The Athenians had for 
a while followed with blind acquiescence the guidance of 
Themistocles. Thukydides admires in Themistocles that 
prompt intuition which made it possible for him to hit upon 
the best expedient in pressing difficulties, and even to pene- 
trate the secrets of the future. If we understand him aright 
he ascribes to him the perfection of a healthy common-sense 

* Pausanias is instanced by Aristotle ("Pol." v. 6, 2=p. 208, 2 Bekker) to 
illustrate the words tdv rig fdyag y icai cvvajXEvog in /xei^ojv tlvai, 'iva fiovap- 

xy, and is compared with Hanno of Carthage. 



132 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

ready to meet every crisis, without the need of previous de- 
liberation or discipline. He rendered an inestimable service 
to Greece and to the world by concentrating all the power of 
Athens in her maritime life, and leading her to her goal by 
his energy and finesse. But in this his design was directed 
not only against the Medo-Persians, but also against the Lake- 
dnemonians, the most important members of the Greek con- 
federacy. It was due to him that the walls of Athens were 
rebuilt, against the wish of the Spartans. Themistocles threw 
obstacles in the way of the negotiations, and purposely de- 
layed them until the work had advanced too far to be broken 
off. A model for all succeeding Athenian statesmen, he did 
not forget, whilst repelling the Medo-Persian invasion, to op- 
pose the preponderance of Sparta. The exclusion of the cities 
which had displayed Median sympathies from the Amphicty- 
onic council was prevented by him, because it would have 
turned the balance of power by land in favor of the Spartans. 

Another of his services was the fortification of the Peirpeus. 
This harbor, the finest in Greece, two miles in circuit, and as 
much as twenty fathoms deep, is well protected from the 
winds, and offers good anchorage. Perhaps those mighty 
foundation walls, which are still to be seen jutting out from 
the promontory which forms the entrance, across the mouth 
of the harbor, are to be assigned to his epoch and to his hand. 

In the midst of his achievements he indulged a keen sense 
of his personal merit. It is a saying ascribed to him by tra- 
dition that he did not know how to tune a lyre, but could 
turn an insignificant state into a great one. On the floating 
corpses of those slain in the naval engagement were to be 
seen golden chains and other ornaments. " Gather these up," 
said he to his attendant, "for thou art not Themistocles." 
To efface his own personality in the true republican spirit 
was not in his nature. Tie willingly bore the expense of 
tragic contests, but he claimed that the records of these should 
be inscribed with his name. He was ostentatious, insolent, 
and even cruel, and loved splendor even more than he loved 
authority. Themistocles belongs to that class of politicians 
who never at any time regard themselves as bound by previ- 
ous stipulations, but consider all means permissible which con- 



THEMISTOCLES. 183 

duce to their end. A nature such as his, whose conduct under 
all conditions obeyed the impulse of an ambitious spirit, could 
only find a place in a democratic republic so long as great 
emergencies made it indispensable. 

The ingenious expedient employed in the Athenian re- 
public, of banishing by ostracism individuals whose grow- 
ing power endangered political equality, was directed against 
Themistocles.* Sparta, no less than Athens, found him in- 
supportable. In the proceedings against Pausanias circum- 
stances were brought to light which justified the reproach 
that he had known and concealed the designs of the Spartan 
king. Sparta and Athens took steps in concert to arrest the 
victor of Salamis for having made a compact with the enemy 
whom he had then repulsed. Themistocles withdrew from 
Argos, where he was sojourning, to Korkyra, and then to Ad- 
metus, king of the Molossians, in whom he feared to find an 
enemy, having formerly advised the rejection of a request 
preferred by him at Athens. The suppliant was admitted to 
protection, but could not tarry there long. He had a hun- 
dred talents with him, the Great King had set another two 
hundred upon his head, and to a pirate he would have proved 
a rich prize. Themistocles nevertheless passed safely to Eph- 
esus, from which, conducted by a Persian, he penetrated into 
the heart of the empire, and at last reached the Persian court 
to seek safety with the enemy whom he had driven out of 
Greece. He was received, not as an enemy, but as a friend. 
Three important cities were assigned him for his maintenance, 
in the chief of which, Magnesia, his grave was shown in later 
times. 

We are reluctantly compelled to reject the accounts of 
later historians, according to which the king to whom The- 
mistocles made his escape was Xerxes, who is said to have con- 
templated sending into the field against the Greeks the man 

* Diodorus (xi. 54) assigns the ostracism of Themistocles to the arch- 
onship of Praxiergus, 01. 75, 2=471-470 b.c. With this agrees the date 
in Cornelius Nepos (" Aristides," c. 3), " Aristides decessit fere post an- 
num quartum quam Themistocles Athenis crat expulsus." Aristeides 
lived to witness the representation of JEschylus's "CEdipodeia" (Plutarch, 
"Aristides,"' c. 3), which took place 01. 78, 1=457 b.c. 



ISi GREECE AND PERSIA. 

by whom he had been defeated.* Themistocles, it is said, 
could not bring himself to consent to such a proposal, and at 
a banquet with his friends he offered sacrifice to the gods and 
then slew himself. But the story indicates the light in which 
Themistocles was regarded by the generation which succeed- 
ed him. 

The essential feature in the accounts given of the fate of 
Fausanias and Themistocles, apart from the fabulous touches 
added by tradition, is that both the generals to whom the suc- 
cessful issue of the war against the Fersians was principally 
due soon afterwards fell into disfavor with the communities 
to which they belonged. Fausanias was destroyed by the 
Gerusia. Themistocles took refuge with the Fersians. who 
gave him their protection, after which he disappears. Pos- 
terity has not been able to recall the living image of Fausa- 
nias. but we know more of Themistocles. lie is perhaps the 
first man who appears upon the scene of universal history as 
a creature of flesh and blood, playing a part at times the re- 
verse of praiseworthy, yet always great. Amid the clash of 
the great forces of the world his will was to rule and never to 
be ruled, but those forces were too strong for him, and he 
was overwhelmed by them. Yet while the worker succumbed, 
his work survived the storm and lived for centuries. The- 
mistocles is the founder of the historical greatness of Athens. 

To return to the war between Hellenes and Fersians.it is 
clear from this example that the Great King had but little to 

* According to the tradition of Ephorus, Demon, Cleitarehus. Hera- 
cleides (Plutarch, '• Themist."* 37), Xerxes was then still alive. On the 
other hand, Thukydides makes Themistoeles arrive in Persia in the reign 
of Axtaxerxes. Plutarch has attempted to combine the two accounts, 
and thus has imparted to the first and original account an entirely 
fabulous aspect. The account as it appears in Plutarch presupposes a 
state of tranquillity such as. after the murder of Xerxes by Artabanus, 
who even seems to have introduced an interregnum, is not probable. 
The tradition here has traits of a fabulous nature. In Diodorus (zLc, 
58) the legend appears less overladen with imaginary details than else- 
where. The main statement rests upon historical grounds, as is proved 
by two extant coins which Themistocles caused to be coined in Mag- 
nesia after the Attic standard (cf. Brandis, "Das Munz. Mass- und Ge- 
wichtsweseu in Vorderasien." pp. 887, 459). 



WAR WITH PERSIA. 1S5 

fear in the way of reprisals from his enemies in the "West. It 
was improbable that in either the aristocratic or democratic 
republic, or in the Greek community at large, any power or 
any individual would arise likely to prove dangerous to him- 
self. It is, moreover, an error to ascribe to the Greeks de- 
signs of this kind. The overthrow of the Persian monarchy, 
which rested on political conditions totally dissimilar to their 
own, they could not have projected. But they contemplated 
and seriously undertook the restoration of that state of things 
which had preceded the attacks of Persia. They were un- 
ceasing in their efforts to expel the Persians from Thrace, to 
give freedom to the cities on the Asiatic coast, to recover 
their naval supremacy in the eastern Mediterranean, to sever 
Cyprus, and perhaps even Egypt, once more from the great 
monarchy. Even for this object, no voluntary combination 
of all the Hellenes, not even so much as concerted action be- 
tween Sparta and Athens, was to be expected, for, as we have 
said, in Sparta the paramount influence which a successful 
general might bring to bear upon the domestic condition of 
their republic was an object of dread. The Spartans had no 
real objection to allowing Athens to take the lead in the con- 
flicts with Persia, a position which seemed to be justified by 
the growth of her maritime power.* 

Sparta connived at the formation of that maritime confed- 
eracy in which the islands and seaports which were menaced 
by the Persians attached themselves to Athens, who con- 
tented herself in return with moderate contributions, without 
limiting the autonomy of her allies in home affairs. This is 
the Delian League, of the progress of which we shall soon 
have more to say. The two great men, Aristeides, alternate- 
ly the friend and the opponent of Themistocles, and Kimon, 
the son of the victor of Marathon, acted here in concert, the 

* Demosthenes in his third Philippic (iii. c. 33, p. 116) fixes the dura- 
tion of the Athenian hegemony at seventy-three years (TTjooorarai fdv 
vtui£ t^cofu'iKorza trt] Kai rpia tyiveaOE, Trpoardrai ci rpuiKovra iroQ Skovra 
Aactfai/iovtot). If we count from the end (01. 93,4=4:04 B.C.) of the 
Poloponnesian war. 01. To. 4=477 b.c. appears to be the date of the com- 
mencement of the hegemony of the Athenians, and with this Diodorus 
agrees, who places it (xi. 44) in the archonship of Adeimantus. 



1SG GREECE AND PERSIA. 

first in negotiation, the second in resolute and successful en- 
terprises. At first Kimon directed his efforts to the north, 
where he could combine the advantage of the state with that 
private family interest of which we have spoken above. On 
the Strymon he attacked the Persians, by whom the Athe- 
nians had been expelled from those regions, and subdued them 
with the assistance of the surrounding tribes. The Persian 
general burned himself, like Sardanapalus, in the midst of his 
treasures. The Chersonese fell into Kimon's hands after a 
strucro-le with the Persians and their allies the Thracians. 

DO 

The conquered districts were portioned out to colonists from 
Athens. 

His next step, an invitation to the Greek cities on the 
shores of Asia to recover their freedom, could not be attended 
by any marked success as long as the combined naval forces 
of Persia and Phoenicia were paramount in the eastern Medi- 
terranean. Accordingly, it was against this supremacy that 
the chief efforts of Athens and her allies were directed. 
Kimon, at the head of a squadron of 200 sail, undertook an 
expedition designed to support the Greek cities on the south- 
ern coast of Asia Minor in their struggle for emancipation, 
and to expel the Persian garrisons still to be found there. 
By persuasion and force he succeeded in his object in the 
districts of Caria, but the Persians resolved to bar his farther 
progress, and sent, as their practice was, a combined naval and 
military armament against him.* Kimon first attacked the 
fleet, and the superiority of the Greeks to the Phoenicians 
was once more made manifest. A hundred vessels with their 
crews fell into the hands of the Greeks, who also captured 
many others which had been abandoned. The latter Kimon 
now employed, if we may believe the account currently ac- 

* We may regard Dioclorus as a trustworthy authority here, since Plu- 
tarch ("Cimon," c. 11) ascribes to Ephorus exactly the same details as 
are found in Diodorus. Accordingly, we may take it as certain that 
here, at any rate, Diodorus had Ephorus before him. Plutarch quotes 
two other historians, Callisthenes and Phanodemus, who vary from 
Ephorus. The name of the Persian commander as given by Callisthenes is 
not the same as that in Diodorus, whilst the number of the Athenian 
ships is differently given by Phanodemus. 



KIMON. 187 

cepted, in the execution of a most successful stratagem. It is 
said that he manned the empty vessels in his turn, disguising 
his people in Persian clothes, of which a large supply had 
come into his possession. In this way he surprised at night 
the Persian camp by the Eurymedon, where the approaching 
fleet was awaited as a friendly one, attacked it at once, and, 
profiting by the confusion, overpowered it. Kimon, whose 
presence of mind did not desert him in the hour of victory, 
was careful to prevent his troops from separating in quest of 
plunder, and recalled them by a prearranged fire-signal, which 
they obeyed even in the heat of pursuit. After this they 
erected a trophy. Thus a double victory was won on the 
same day by land and sea.* 

No sooner was the naval superiority of the Greeks thus 
demonstrated, than the prospect was opened up to them of 
bringing their power to bear upon Egypt, a country in whose 
concerns they had already interfered. 

Xerxes, whom fate had spared to experience the further 
defeat at the Eurymedon, was slain in the following year f — 
an episode often repeated in the case of despotic governments 
in ancient and modern times, even among the Romans in the 
epoch of the Empire. He was the victim of a conspiracy 
among the men in whom he chiefly placed confidence, Arta- 
banus, the commander of his body-guard, and the high cham- 
berlain, who controlled the palace. The conspiracy, however, 
aimed at more than his death. In Xerxes were united the 
two lines of the Achaemenidse. It was the design of the as- 
sassins absolutely to put an end to the dominion of this race. 

* The battle of the Eurymedon is assigned by Clinton to 466, by Grote 
to 465. It is in favor of the latter of these assumed dates that, accord- 
ing to the account in Thukydides, Themistocles, in his flight to Asia — ■ 
■which, according to the historian's account, falls in the year 465 (i. 137, 
iaTrifiiTEi ypd/xfiara elg (5am\sa 'Ap~a&p%r)v rbv EepZov, vewcrri fiarnXevovra) — ■ 
found the Athenian fleet engaged in the blockade of Naxos (i. 137), and 
immediately upon this, or at the same moment, followed the battle at 
the Eurymedon (i. 98, etc.). We have taken account of the year above, 
in fixing the date of the death of Aristagoras. 

t The statement of Diodorus that Artaxerxes himself laid violent hands 
on his elder brother Darius cannot be maintained, being contradicted by 
the evidence of Aristotle ("Pol." v. c. 10=220, 13 Bekker). 



18S GREECE AND PERSIA. 

If we are not mistaken, this purpose must be associated with 
the disasters to which the policy of Darius and Xerxes had 
led. The reign ing family had lost its authority and was to 
be overthrown. Artabanns himself aspired to the throne, but 
matters did not come to that pass. The elder of Xerxes' sons 
had shared the fate of his father, but this only stimulated the 
second son, Artaxerxes, to a more determined resistance. The 
tradition runs that he saved life and throne in a personal en- 
counter with Artabanus. On this point accounts and opin- 
ions are at variance, but we may abide by the main fact that 
Artaxerxes, the second son of Xerxes, made the dominion of 
the Achremenid secure for more than a century. He was 
distinguished by the Greeks from other kings of the same 
name by an epithet which means the Long-handed, and was 
derived from a physical disproportion. 

Artaxerxes did not feel himself called upon to extend the 
empire and carry out his father's projects of universal do- 
minion ; his business was simply to maintain and to protect 
the power which he inherited, and which, even after the re- 
cent disasters, was still very extensive. The most important 
question was, according^, how far Artaxerxes would be ac- 
knowledged by the subject populations, which had by no 
means yet forgotten their old independence. Undoubtedly 
the decline of the naval power of Persia, in consequence of 
the battle of Eurymedon, contributed to make obedience 
doubtful, especially in Egypt, a region which still retained the 
largest measure of independence. Inarus, the prince of a 
Libyan district which had been annexed but not brought to 
complete subjection, induced the Egyptians without much 
difficulty to revolt from Persia, and invoked the aid of the 
Athenians.* Their fleet happened to be in Cyprus at the 
time, but immediately sailed for Egypt, where the Greeks, 
Libyans, and revolted Egyptians united their forces and oc- 
cupied the town of Memphis, with the exception of its cita- 
del, which was called the White Castle. Inarus availed him- 

* According to Diodorus, xi. 71, Inarus promised the Athenians a share 
in the government of Egypt (virurxvov/tEvoc avrolc, tav iXtvQepdxroxji toix 
AlyvTrriovg, Koivijv avrolc Trapi&aBai rr)v iSaffiXeiav). 



THE ATHENIANS IN EGYPT. 189 

self of the wealth of corn in Egypt to establish his alliance 
with Athens on a firmer basis, and sent considerable supplies 
across the sea.* 

It is probable that commercial motives amongst others 
prompted the building of the Long Walls, by which the cita- 
del and town of Athens were united with the seaport. But 
they were needed for another reason. The misunderstand- 
ings between Sparta and Athens had reached such a climax 
that there was reason to dread an invasion of the Attic terri- 
tory on the part of the Spartans. We encounter here a com- 
plication in the general condition of public affairs. Arta- 
xerxes is said to have attempted to prevail upon the Spartans 
to invade Attica, hoping, of course, thus to relieve himself at 
a single blow from the hostile attacks of Athens. Such an 
alliance was, however, reserved for later times. At that time 
it would have seemed treasonable, and accordingly the Spar- 
tans declined the Persian proposals. Athens would indeed 
have secured a great position for herself if Inarus had suc- 
ceeded in maintaining his seat upon the throne of Egypt. 
But she was not in a position to employ all her power on be- 
half of Inarus at the critical time. We find an inscription f 
in which are named the members of one of the ten Attic 
tribes who were slain in one and the same year, in Cyprus, 
Egypt, Phoenicia, iEgina, Plalieis, and Megara. To this dis- 
sipation of the available forces of the republic we may at- 
tribute the result that Egypt, undoubtedly the principal the- 
atre of the war, was inadequately supported by the efforts of 
Athens. 

Nevertheless we cannot entirely forget the Egyptian war 
as a part of her history. Artaxerxes employed all his mili- 
tary strength, with the advantage also of some previous mili- 
tary training, in the subjugation of Egypt. His success cor- 
responded to his efforts. Upon the appearance of a Perso- 

* There is no question that Athens imported corn from Egypt at this 
epoch. Though the name of Psammetichus, who was the father of Ina- 
chus, is given here, which does not suit the date, we may, perhaps, as- 
sume a confusion between the two names (cf. W. A. Schmidt, " Das peri- 
kleische Zeitalter," i. p. 44). 

fKirchhoff. " Corpus Inscript. Att." i. n. 433. 



190 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

Phoenician fleet at the mouths of the Nile, the investment of 
the citadel of Memphis, in which the Grseeo-Libyan army of 
Inarus was engaged, could no longer be maintained, in the 
absence of the Athenian fleet. The Athenians hoped to be 
able to hold out upon an island in the Nile, but the Persians, 
probably favored by the time of year, were able to dry up 
the arm of the river upon which they had relied for protec- 
tion. The Greeks defended themselves stoutly, burning their 
ships, that they might not fall into the enemy's hands, and 
pledging themselves to resist to the last. Almost the whole 
force was destroyed, and only a small number succeeded in 
reaching Kyrene.* An Athenian fleet of fifty sail appeared 
on the coast only when the issue was decided beyond recall, 
and Egypt passed once more under the power of the Persians. 
Egypt had already witnessed a conflict between Greeks and 
Persians. The victories of Cambyses were repeated by Arta- 
xerxes. But, as may be supposed, such a result did not satis- 
fy the ambition and energy of the Greeks, and it was impos- 
sible that Athens could look on with patience whilst the 
naval power of Phoenicia was recovering its old importance. 
Some years later, after Athens and Sparta had come to a tem- 
porary accommodation, Kimon undertook a new expedition, 
directed principally against Cyprus, but aiming further at 
Egypt, and even at the overthrow of the Persian empire. 
The project is intelligible by the light of the experiment 
which hud been made just before it to replace the ruling dy- 
nasty by another. Inarus had been captured and crucified, 
but, in the Delta, Amyrtreus, a pretender of true Egyptian 
lineage, still held his ground ; and since, as so often hap- 
pened, misunderstandings had arisen between the satraps and 
the court of the Great King, any success might of course have 
brought about a turn of fortune. Kimon consulted the ora- 
cle of Jupiter Amnion, in which he might naturally have ex- 
pected to find Egyptian sympathies, but before the answer 

*We adhere to the account in Thukydides, i. 110. The discrepancies 
in Diodorus, xi. 77, are of no importance, since in another place (xiii. 25) 
his statements are in harmony with those of Thukydides. So also arc 
the words of Isocrates (mpi dp{)vt]Q 87, p. 17G £>), els Alyvirrov Siaxoaiai 
irXtvudaai rpu'jptig ai'roif rolf 7r\j;pw/<«cri Stt<f>9dpr]aai>. 



THE PEACE OF KIMON. 191 

arrived he was already dead (b.c. 419), probably in conse- 
quence of a wound received before Kitium, in Cyprus. Un- 
fortunately we have very imperfect information about these 
events. For the most important transactions of a time in 
which Herodotus and Thukydides were living we are referred 
to mere hearsay, as set down by later authors. From Thukyd- 
ides we only learn that after Kimon's death the Phoenicians 
were successfully encountered, near Salamis, in Cyprus, in an- 
other double battle by land and sea. Thus, though Egypt 
was lost, the dominion of the sea was maintained. 

At this point, however, a difficulty presents itself to the 
critical historian which we cannot leave undiscussed, and 
which requires, indeed, immediate attention. To Kimon him- 
self is ascribed the conclusion of a peace with Persia, concern- 
ing which an absolute silence prevails elsewhere. It is as- 
serted that a formal compact was concluded between the re- 
public of Athens and the Great King, in which the latter 
expressly renounced all attempts to subjugate the Ionian 
cities, and besides engaged not to send his fleet to sea beyond 
certain clearly indicated limits. The Athenians on their part 
are said to have bound themselves not to attack the territories 
of the king Artaxerxes. This account has been the subject 
of much learned controversy. The fact of such a peace has 
generally been denied, because it is not mentioned in the 
principal contemporary authors. We have just alluded to the 
defective nature of the information about this period. But 
Herodotus mentions an embassy of the Athenian Callias to 
the Persian court, which can scarcely have had any other 
aim than the re-establishment of peace. The mission itself 
was a friendly advance, considering that the status helli still 
continued, and had led to events which imperilled the de- 
pendence of Egypt and Cyprus upon the Persian empire. In 
order to put an end to such dangers, the Great King would 
have to treat for peace, and to consider what terms he could 
offer to the Athenians. To Athens nothing could be of more 
importance than that she should remain mistress of the sea, 
secure from the fear of any attack by the Persians upon the 
Greek cities in Asia. To attain the first object was the prin- 
cqDal motive of Kimon's naval expedition ; the second was 



192 GREECE AND PERSIA. 

of immense importance for the consolidation of the Athenian 
dominion in the Archipelago. If, therefore, it was definitive- 
ly settled that no Persian vessel of war was to pass beyond 
the line of the Phasclis and the Kyanean rocks, whilst at the 
same time the land forces of the satraps were to remain three 
days' journey from the coast, we have here the very condi- 
tions which the Athenians must have regarded as those it was 
most important to secure. Only on their fulfilment could 
they promise to leave the dominions of the king unassailed. 
No formal peace was concluded, but an understanding was 
apparently come to, sufficient to guarantee the general re- 
pose.* 

It is probable that the state of things which did in fact 
ensue was regarded as preliminary to a formal compact. The 
double battle near the Cyprian Salamis may be regarded as 
the last act in the war between Hellenes and Persians at this 
stage of history. The Hellenes maintained their indepen- 
dence, and achieved supremacy on the sea ; the Persian em- 
pire, however, still remained intact, and still maintained its 
dominant position in the world. If we might venture to 
measure and estimate the course of general history by the 
forces at work below the surface, we might say that the time 
for the universal supremacy of Greece was not yet come. 
The Greeks, in consequence of the Medo-Persian war, and of 

* There can be no doubt that Diodorus derived from Ephorus the in- 
formation which he gives us that a peace was actually effected. It is, 
however, not probable either that this author forged a treaty out of love 
for the political fancies of his master, Isocrates, or that any motive can 
have existed at a later time for actually engraving such a forged treaty 
upon a column. The treaty harmonizes too accurately with the circum- 
stances of the middle of the fifth century to have been invented in the 
fourth. That Herodotus only mentions the embassy in a cursory way, 
and the convention not at all, is explained when we remember that these 
later circumstances did not come within the scope of his history, which 
would have lost its unity and objectivity by too exact an explanation 
of later events. In the explanation of the passage in Thuk. vii. 25, 26, 
to which Dahlmann and Manso refer, Grote ("History of Greece," v. 454, 
n. 1) is, in my judgment, right. The name "Peace of Kimon " must, 
however, not be taken literally ; it was only an accommodation made by 
the Athenians about the time of Kimon's decease. 



RESULTS OF THE WAR. 193 

the victories they had achieved, were in a state of internal 
commotion, in which the intellectual aspects of their life ap- 
peared in strong relief. These intestine struggles, which con- 
tinued without interruption, but led to no decisive results 
of importance, did not interrupt their development in any 
direction, but rather served to excite that emulation which 
is a necessary incentive to the production of works of litera- 
ture and art. On the other hand, a struggle with Persia 
would have been fatal to these tendencies even if the Greeks 
had been victorious; military success and the fascination of 
conquest would have enlisted all their energies and directed 
them to other ends. An epoch of equilibrium between the 
Persian monarchy and the Greek republics, such an equilib- 
rium as followed upon the battle of Mycale, and even more 
conspicuously upon that of the Eurymedon, was essential in 
order to leave the Greeks time for their internal develop- 
ment. In this, however, nothing was of such advantage to 
them as the complete independence of Athens. Here that 
constitution was matured which, just because it was com- 
posed of such divergent elements, prepared the way for the 
movements of mind and gave a field for its exercise in civil 
and social life. 

13 



Chapter VII. 

THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY AND ITS LEADERS. 

The political relations which we have been considering, 
though dominating the whole world, were, nevertheless, not 
the only subjects which engaged attention ; nor, indeed, after 
the decisive actions at Platsea and Mycalc, were they even 
the most important of such subjects. In the midst of these 
complications, the differences between one Greek city or state 
and another developed themselves. Above all, it was in 
great part due to these very complications that one of the 
most remarkable phenomena which the history of the world 
has known made its appearance ; we mean the Athenian 
democracy. There is a close correspondence between these 
internal movements and the contests waged with adverse 
forces from without. We have purposely brought our ac- 
count of the latter to the point at which a state of equilib- 
rium had resulted, and have abstained from mentioning in- 
ternal struggles that we may now contemplate them with less 
distraction. 

1. Aristeides and Pericles as Opponents of Kimon. 

It is natural to regard the various forms of government as 
distinguished from each other by the existence in each of a 
political idea peculiar to itself ; but this is not the historical 
account of the matter. 

The democracy of Athens owed its origin and its founda- 
tion on a solid basis to the struggle between the tyranny in 
a monarchical form and the oligarchic rule of the leading 
families. Solon, in an epoch of universal confusion, had at- 
tempted to establish a system of equilibrium between the ar- 
istocracy and the commons of Athens by reserving to the lat- 
ter a certain share in the government of the commonwealth. 



DEMOCRATIC LEADERS. 195 

But lie had been unable to prevent the immediate rise of a 
tyranny which controlled the people whilst it kept down the 
oligarchy. Setting himself not only against the tyranny, but 
against the oligarchy also, when it rose once more to the sur- 
face, the Alcnueonid Cleisthenes had thoroughly reformed 
the constitution of Solon, had remodelled the commons, and 
had made it his first concern to put arms in their hands. The 
people of Athens, now for the first time waking to a con- 
sciousness of political existence, received the gift with eager- 
ness. They resisted with resolution and success every at- 
tempt which the Lakedsemonians made in connection with a 
faction of the Eupatridos to wrest from them the concessions 
which they had obtained. They proved themselves able to 
repel the first invasion of the Persians, which aimed at the res- 
toration of the Athenian tyranny, and to endure the second, 
which aimed at a subjection of all the Greeks, with a resigna- 
tion and willing self-sacrifice till then without example. 

The leaders under whom Athens achieved her victories 
did not gain through their services a secure position in their 
own city. The aristocratic Miltiades was condemned to pay 
a fine, and, being unable to do so, died, it would appear, in 
prison. Themistocles, aiming at an exceptional position, was 
banished. Next to these heroic forms appear Aristeides, who 
had been one of the most active adherents of Cleisthenes, and 
Kimon, the son of Miltiades — excellent men, who in their 
turn, as the change of affairs demanded, maintained a high 
position and exercised a great influence in the state. In a 
sense different from that touched on above, the after-effects 
of the war with Persia were manifested. 

The old families had taken a keen interest in the war, act- 
ing in concert with the rising democracy. Each side could 
claim a share in the victoiw, but the results of the struirirle 
tended mainly to the advantage of the people. The prepon- 
derance obtained by the popular element may be traced main- 
ly to the Persian war, and that in two ways. The desolation 
with which the Persians had visited the land affected the ar- 
istocratic proprietors most sensibly ; and after the war they 
found themselves grievously impoverished. On the other 
hand, the victories won had raised the standard of living 



196 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

among the lower orders and increased their substance. Even 
during the struggle itself the effects of these disturbed rela- 
tions became apparent. Before the battle of Platsea, a kind 
of conspiracy was traced in Platsea itself among the families 
of distinction. Their aim is said to have been to break up 
the democracy, or, failing that, to pass over to the Persians. 
Their purpose was discovered ; the two most guilty of the 
conspirators saved themselves by flight ; others supposed 
themselves undiscovered, and would seem to have repented 
of their intention. 

Aristeides might perhaps have had sufficient authority to 
revive the old prerogatives, but he regarded this as impracti- 
cable, not merely because the relations of property had alto- 
gether changed, but principally because the people, having 
once borne arms, could not be brought back to their previous 
state of subordination. By arms and by victories, reputa- 
tions had been won, involving a natural claim to a share in 
the highest offices. Besides this, the people distinctly avowed 
that they would no longer acquiesce in the old restrictions. 
It is obvious that thus the equilibrium between the old fami- 
lies and the Demos, upon which the Solonian constitution 
was based, was completely destroyed. This was the natural 
consequence of years of war and victory. The people had 
tasted freedom ; they had shed their blood for it, and without 
violence and danger the old state of things could not have 
been maintained. The abrogation of the privileges of the 
noble and wealthy families was a necessary step towards 
bringing the democracy into complete relief. Aristeides was 
not restrained by that love of justice which is his chief title 
to fame from favoring this design. As ^Eschylus expresses 
it, in a passage which is rightly regarded as pointing to him, 
he wished not only to seem, but to be, just — a great saying, 
which we may conceive to have been suggested by the fact 
that he did not hesitate to acknowledge the rights won by 
the people in the national struggle, feeling that arms led to 
freedom. Through the progress of trade, of the marine, and 
of the dominion with which the latter was associated, the de- 
mocracy, although as yet not completely developed, assumed 
the ascendant. 



ARISTEIDES. 197 

This ascendency at once opened the further question, how 
far democracy might be guided to the advantage of the whole 
commonwealth. For this task Aristeides was exactly adapted. 
Whilst Themistocles refused to efface his personality even 
under the democracy, it was the merit of Aristeides that he 
put self in the background. He withdrew a proposition at 
the very moment when it was being passed, because the pre- 
vious speeches for and against had convinced him that his 
plan was not perfectly adapted to its end. Propositions of 
undoubted utility were made by him through others, because 
they would otherwise have been rejected, through the jeal- 
ousy which his name had begun to excite. Aristeides was 
accounted poor, and prided himself upon being so ; neverthe- 
less, he had belonged to the first class in the state, the Penta- 
cosiomedimni, and had become arehon by virtue of the old 
prerogative of that class. This very prerogative he swept 
away. 

All the restrictions which excluded the larger number of 
the citizens from sharing in the higher offices were removed 
under his leadership. The electors were one and all made 
capable of election also, and thus an administration was formed 
very different to those which had preceded it. Yet it can- 
not be said that the change ran counter to the spirit of the 
constitution, for the power of the individual was still made 
to depend upon his property ; only the relations of property 
had themselves undergone a radical change in the course of 
the last few years. The recognition of this change was the 
principal work of Aristeides, with respect to the domestic 
polity of Athens. 

But his influence was felt no less sensibly in her attitude 
towards other powers. Themistocles had entertained the de- 
sign of forcing upon the islands the supremacy of Athens, 
but that which was premature and impossible for him was 
achieved by Aristeides. The opportunity was afforded by 
the irritating behavior of Pausanias, the Spartan king ; his 
arrogant proceedings wounded the pride of the admirals in 
command of the insular contingents, who complained of his 
ill-treatment of them. Belonging, as they did, to the Ionian 
race, they were especially sensitive at having to yield obedi- 



198 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

ence to a Dorian commander-in-chief. They were better in- 
clined towards their kinsmen the Athenians, who, moreover, 
as having done the most distinguished service in the naval 
war, seemed to have a special claim to direct its further prog- 
ress. Moreover, as Pausanias took advantage of the impor- 
tance which he had acquired at the head of the collective 
forces of Greece to demean himself in a manner which the 
Spartan oligarchy found intolerable, even Sparta ceased to 
have an interest in maintaining the chief command over the 
fleet. It was, indeed, remembered how an oracle had pre- 
dicted that the dominion of the Lakedremonians would be 
but a halting one, if it did not embrace at once land and sea, 
and in consequence the Athenians expected to have to pre- 
pare for war ; but a member of the Gerusia was able to con- 
vince the rest that a naval supremacy was not expedient for 
Sparta. The Spartans desisted from every attempt to coun- 
teract the course of things, and thus were generally under- 
stood to have renounced the hegemony. In brief, Athenians 
now assumed the chief command of the naval forces, a result 
to which they were especially assisted by the confidence in- 
spired by the modest and tranquil character of Aristcides, 
whose authority in these affairs was now paramount. 

It was in keeping with the character of the Athenian de- 
moerac}' to grasp the naval supremacy which the oligarchical 
Sparta resigned. Aristeides has been credited with having 
aroused the attention of the Athenians to the advantages 
which such a position would secure them. He was, at any 
rate, the principal agent in raising Athens to that position. 
The new relation could only be based on contributions ac- 
cording to a definite assessment, and Aristeides was commis- 
sioned to determine this for the new members of the League. 
The contributions were fixed at the moderate total of 460 
talents, and later on, when they had been raised to three times 
this amount, the days of the old tribute were praised as a 
golden, a Saturn ian, time. At a congress of the members of 
the League in the temple of Apollo and Artemis, points of 
detail were next arranged. The members of the League had 
ostensibly equal rights, but this did not prevent them from 
falling into a state of dependence upon the Athenians, with 



THE DELI AN LEAGUE. 199 

whom rested the appointment of the treasurers of Greece, 
that is, of the League. The members of the League gave in 
their contributions themselves, and these were originally kept 
in the temple of Delos. The justice of Aristeides in these 
transactions was reduced to some shifts, and, indeed, the an- 
cients never referred this attribute of his to public affairs, in 
which they conceived him to have been guided by the exi- 
gencies of his mother-country. 

Aristeides developed, on the one hand, the democratic con- 
stitution, whilst, on the other, he laid the foundation for the 
naval supremacy of Athens. The two achievements are close- 
ly linked together. In the latter his associate was Kimon, 
who, however, as we have explained, was at the same time 
prosecuting the war against the Persians on an extensive 
scale. To this end the naval confederacy put forth all its 
powers. Yet the very victories which Kimon won led to 
complications, and disturbances among the members of the 
League, most of whom had some special interest of their own. 
The reception of those new associates who were attracted by 
the victories won involved a change which could not be 
pleasant to every one ; and, as the payment of the prescribed 
contributions, if the settlement were called in question, would 
cause the estrangement of a portion of the fleet, the perma- 
nence of the whole confederacy was endangered. Athens re- 
solved to use her whole power to suppress every centrifugal 
movement. Naxos before and Thasos after the battle of the 
Eurymedon had this lesson impressed upon them. The par- 
ticular interest of the latter island conflicted with that of 
Athens, inasmuch as it had claims upon the gold mines of the 
neighboring continent, which had now fallen into the hands 
of the Athenians. A formal revolt ensued, which for some 
years in succession (b.c. 465-463) employed the warlike re- 
sources of Athens, until the inhabitants were at length com- 
pelled to give up the possession of a naval force of their own 
and to pay the contributions imposed upon them. For the 
discharge of these contributions measures were at the same 
time taken of a character universally binding. Kimon had 
allowed the smaller communities, which found it inconvenient 
to unite agricultural labors with service in the fleet, to pay 



200 T111 ' ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

their contributions altogether in money. This concession was 
ascribed to his humanity, but it is obvious that the power of 
the leading state was augmented by a change which put into 
its hands the assessment and exaction of these contributions. 
The Delian League thus gradually transformed itself into a 
Supremacy of Athens, not maintained without violence, and 
certain to excite feelings of antipathy, especially on the part 
of Sparta. 

Sparta was at this time involved in the most embarrassing 
difficulties. The Messenian war had been renewed for the 
third time. The Spartans, despairing of success in the at- 
tempt to master the principal stronghold, Ithome, in which 
the descendants of the original population maintained them- 
selves, invited Athens to their assistance, in virtue of their 
ancient covenant. This covenant was, indeed, still binding, 
but various misunderstandings had arisen in the course of the 
last few years. In Athens they professed to have proof that 
the island of Thasos had applied to Sparta in its necessities, 
and had actually received from her secret promises of assist- 
ance. In the popular assembly at Athens, when the request 
of Sparta for assistance against Ithome was under discussion, 
Ephialtes, one of the most popular orators and demagogues of 
the time, reminded his hearers that this state was the natural 
enemy of Athens, and that they could have no motive for 
rescuing her from her perplexities. Kimon insisted that the 
thing must be done, and said that they ought not to "let 
( ! recce be lamed, and Athens herself be deprived of her yoke- 
fellow." He carried his point, and was himself commissioned 
to lead a small but well-appointed force against Ithome. But 
this step did but give fresh occasion of quarrel, for the same 
feeling of a fundamental divergence of interests which had 
manifested itself at Athens was now no less conspicuous 
among the SpartiatSB. They were almost afraid that Athens 
would make common cause with their subjects, a race of her 
own stock, and dismissed the Athenians under the pretext 
that they needed them no longer. Such treatment could not 
fail to be resented by Athens as a slight, and the antagonism 
between Athens and Sparta manifested itself without disguise, 
with this peculiarity, that in Athens it assumed an intestine 



KIMON. 201 

form, the rise of the democracy causing aristocratic sympa- 
thies to seek and find a support in Sparta. 

A breach with Sparta was a disadvantage for the aristocrats 
at Athens, an advantage for the democracy. Kimon espe- 
cially was destined to feel this to his cost. He was an aristo- 
crat to the core. In person lie was tall, with luxuriant curly 
hair, no orator, as most Athenians were, and without the re- 
finements of social life, but a simple, truth-loving man, of 
upright intentions, a thoroughly aristocratic nature, and one, 
moreover, of those which impress the people without exciting 
their hatred. IJis maritime victories and the authority which 
he exercised in the naval confederacy earned for him high 
respect. lie was the richest man in Attica, and by the liber- 
ality with which he employed his wealth, and the structures 
and works of art on which he expended it, he played towards 
his city something like the part of a patron. lie opened his 
gardens to the public, and helped the needy by largesses of 
food, with the natural result that he had the influence of the 
lower classes on his side. Though he is said to have under- 
stood nothing of the fine arts, the influence which he exer- 
cised upon art and its productions in his own epoch was great 
and stimulating. From Thasos he brought Polygnotus to 
Athens, who illustrated the greatness of Miltiades in the por- 
ticoes which he adorned. There the hero was to be seen at 
the battle of Marathon cheering on his warriors to the attack. 
Among the thirteen figures of bronze given by the Athenians 
as a votive offering to the Delphic oracle appeared the form 
of Miltiades alongside of the gods of the race and country. 
The master hand of Pheidias paid him here the same tribute 
as Polygnotus had paid him at Athens. 

Kimon gave to the memory of his father and of the great 
victories achieved against the Persians the devotion of a life- 
time. This, too, is the corner-stone of his policy. Since 
those victories had been won through the league between 
Lakcdsemon and Athens, Kimon, whilst straining every nerve 
to prosecute the struggle with Persia, was no less anxious to 
maintain a good understanding with Lakcdsemon. In this he 
was supported by all those who derived benefit from such 
aristocratical privileges as still survived, whilst the democratic 



202 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

movement was carried out in opposition to his policy. Two 
parties were formed, with antagonistic sympathies and aims; 
one regarding the struggle with the Medo-Persians as its prin- 
cipal task, and, as a consequence, the maintenance of the old 
gradations of rank and the alliance with Lakedamion ; the 
other placing in the foreground the opposition to Lakedremon, 
straining every nerve to make Athens the first power in 
Greece, and, with this end in view, developing democratic in- 
stitutions to their fullest extent. Pericles became the head 
of the latter party. He, too, was sprung from one of the 
leading families; he was the son of the victor of Mycale, 
Xanthippus, the man who brought against Miltiades the 
charges to which he fell a victim. The struggle between the 
victors of Marathon and Mycale was renewed in their sons. 

The successes of Kimon could not fail to disquiet Pericles. 
Competition for the supreme power has in every state been 
the cause of variance between its leading citizens, and it has 
often happened that a member of one of the principal fami- 
lies has, in order to combat another aristocrat, taken up the 
cause of the people and helped to open a free course to dem- 
ocratic tendencies. Pericles was supported by Ephialtes, the 
same who had spoken against the expedition to Ithome, the 
ill success of which, with the consequent excitement at Athens, 
operated powerfully in his favor and that of Pericles. They 
could venture to propose laws the effect of which was to 
change fundamentally the relative position of parties. Most 
of those institutions upon which the authority of the principal 
families depended had already been dissolved. The Areop- 
agus now shared their fate, its judicial functions, which still 
remained to attest the magisterial authority of the upper 
classes, being, with a single and very exceptional reservation, 
abrogated and transferred to the lleliaaa.* No one can main- 
tain that a regard for the better administration of justice was 
the real motive for this change. The Areopagus, whose im- 
memorial privileges possessed the sanction of religion, was the 

* In the uncertainty of all chronological data we welcome the state- 
ment of Diodorus (xi. 77), that the law against the Areopagus was passed 
01. 80, 1=460-459. "We may fairly assume that the law by which Kimon 
was exiled was of earlier date ; cf. Fischer, " Kleinc Schriftcn," i. 42 n. 



PERICLES AND EPHIALTES. 203 

body in which were concentrated the prerogatives of the prin- 
cipal families. The ordinance of Aristeides, according to 
which the outgoing archons, even according to the new sys- 
tem of election, became members of the Areopagus, had not 
produced any material effect. The predominant influence of 
Kimon secured to the Areopagus a constant and uninterrupted 
authority. To put an end to this there was but one course 
open. The Areopagus would have to be divested of the ju- 
dicial functions, which continued to give it all the authority 
of a supreme magistracy. The Helisea, to which those func- 
tions, with the exception of an insignificant residuum, were 
transferred, was the whole Athenian people, under an organ- 
ization adapted to the administration of justice. It consisted 
of 6000 citizens, chosen by lot for the purpose, who again 
were divided into ten distinct dicasteries, each of which num- 
bered 500 members, so that 1000 were left over, to fill up 
vacancies as they occurred. Actions were brought before the 
archons as before, but their duty was now limited to laying 
them before one of the dicasteries of the Helisea, which found 
a verdict and gave sentence. In this way, by a single stroke, 
the judicial power was wrested from the body which had held 
it by a traditional right and placed in the hands of the people. 
Here the question forces itself upon us, how far each citizen 
could have found it possible to reconcile the claims of his 
daily business with these additional obligations. Pericles and 
Ephialtes succeeded in securing a small remuneration for the 
heliasts while actually engaged in their duties. From the 
comic poets we see that, as a rule, the older men, who were 
less engrossed in ordinary avocations, were selected for this 
purpose. The authority which was to be taken from the 
Areopagus being of a political as well as a judicial character, 
an oath was required from the heliasts, by which they bound 
themselves, above all things, to favor neither tyranny nor oli- 
garchy, nor in any way to prejudice the sovereignty of the 
people." Other obligations, affecting the administration of 

* That Demosthenes is in error in ascribing the form of oath to Solon 
is proved by the fact that the law speaks of the Council of the Five Hun- 
dred, which, in Solon's time, was not in existence. The wording- is char- 



>_>,)! THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

justice, appear in the oath ; but the most important points are 
those which WQ have just touched upon, in which we recognize 

a complete fusion oi the political and judicial views therein 
predominant. Nothing less was intended than that the Arc- 
opagns should bo altogether deprived of its influence, which 
was to he bestowed upon a democratic assembly. It must 
not, however, be imagined that this assembly was democratic 
in a modern sense. 

Pericles and Ephialtes carried out legislative acts by which 
almost a third oi those who had hitherto been citizens were 
excluded from the citizenship, The citizenship was originally 
an amalgamation oi various distinct elements. The new law 
provided that each and every one should be excluded from it 
who did not belong to it by descent at least in the two pre- 
ceding generations. It has been assumed that the law was 
purposely so framed as to affect prejudicially, by its retro- 
spective action, the family of Kimon. Nevertheless, it Mas 
at the same time one oi the greatest political measures under- 
taken at this epoch. Whilst the citizens obtained rights 
which they had never possessed before, their number under- 
went a most important limitation. It is from this time that 
we are able to regard the Athenian Demos as a community 
propagating itself and making its influence felt in the world, 
without any admixture of alien elements. The commons al- 
ready derived some benefit from the state. Some were glad 
to avail themselves of the remuneration bestowed upon the 
heliasts. Others were kept in good humor by receiving the 
price oi admission to the theatre as a grant from the public 
treasury. What was more important, for protracted service 
in the tleet a stated pay was given. x " The distribution of 

aoteristic, and itself a proof of genuineness, Meier and SchGraann, in 
their history of Athenian legal procedure ("Qeschichte des attischen 
Processes "), have justlj insisted upon the support of this document a 
variation in Pollux (Onomasticon) affects only a suhordinate issue, 

* This may be inferred with distinctness from the statements oi Plu- 
tarch c - Pericles," c, 1 1\ in which the citizens are designated as ;■><.. 
lu Plutarch's "Cunon" (c id we arc farther informed that the pay was 
taken out of the contributions of the members of the naval confederacy, 

SQ tliat the citiiens of Athens exercised control over those at whose i \ 



PERICLES and RPHIALTE& 206 

conquered districts in definite allotments was an especial ad- 
vantage to the Athenian citizens. Their authority was fur- 
ther increased when tlie treasury of the naval confederacy 
was transferred from Delos to Athens, and the disposition of 
the t'utuls plaoed in their hands. This is not the place to in- 
quire how far these arrangements harmonise with the normal 
conception of a state, or whether they were the best adapted 
to reconcile personal responsibilities with general interests. 
We are but noting the appearance oi a politioal society, which 
possessed and exercised power in foreign affairs, whilst at the 
same time maintaining civil equality, to the advantage o( 
each individual. The Demos was a genuine power, control- 
ling other powers, and making constant Btrides to empire. 
We have Been that in Athens, as elsewhere, democracy was 

not o( natural growth, but owed its origin to the events of 

the time and the policy o( its leading spirits. Vet it is a 
creation, endowed with an internal energy and holding a po- 
sition in the world, which, together, make it a phenomenon 
of the highest importance. 

The direction which Athenian tendencies were taking at 

this time may be gathered from the building of the Long 

Walls, the principal aim of which was to unite Athens with 
her Seaport, and from the fact that, a short time before, the 

town o( B£egara,at the suggestion o( Athens, had effected a 

similar junction. The growth o( her maritime connections 

at that epoch, extending, as we have already remarked, even 

to the native rulers o( Egypt, rendered it desirable to make 
Athens herself a kind o( seaport town. There was, however, 
another and a paramount motive. The understanding which 
had hitherto been maintained between the democracy o( 

Athens and the aristocracy o( Sparta had been interrupted by 

the affair o( [thome. The garrison of [thome had been re- 
duced by the Spartans upon the withdrawal of the Athenian 
troops, but had so far been supported by Athens that she ob- 



pense tlu'v received their pay. The statement generally made, that Per 
icles introduced pay tor service on land also, depends upon a passage 
t'rom a late scholiast ow Demosthenes, which cannot be regarded as per* 
fectty satisfactory evidence. 



206 TIIE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

tained for them a refuge in the Locrian Naupactus. In Nau- 
pactus and its harbor the Athenians secured for themselves 
one of the most important positions on the western coast. 
We encounter here what we may call the Fate of Greece. 
Over and over again we note the after-effects of that cam- 
paign of the Heracleidse by which Sparta and her aristocracy 
were founded. Athens, on the other hand, was the principal 
locality in which the populations which had not succumbed 
to the Dorian invasion maintained themselves. The Athe- 
nians saw in the Messenians their own kinsmen, and made use 
of those who had survived the struggle to found a position 
which seriously menaced the Peloponnesus, and especially 
Corinth. They had, moreover, dissociated Megara from the 
Peloponnesian league, and drawn it into the naval confed- 
eracy. 

The opposition between the democracy, now supreme at 
Athens, and the aristocracies by which it was surrounded 
made itself everywhere felt. This was especially the case in 
Boeotia, where the less powerful towns sided with Athens, 
while, on the other hand, Thebes was taken into the protection 
of Sparta. It was when things were in this state of ferment 
that the Spartans seized the occasion of a dispute between 
Doris and Phokis to send a considerable force to central 
Greece. They successfully disposed of this contest, but, be- 
ing apprehensive of encountering difficulties in their home- 
ward march, they took up a position in Boeotia and menaced 
Attica itself. A short time before, they had declined to 
invade Attica at the suggestion of the Persians; but that 
which they were then unwilling to do in the interests of the 
Great King they were now preparing to do on their own ac- 
count. It was a step which, taken in conjunction with the 
complications to which we have referred, did more than para- 
lyze the attacks upon Persia. It imperilled the very exist- 
ence of democracy at Athens. It was believed that the land- 
owners of Attica, who were generally displeased with the 
erection of the Long Walls, had come to an understanding 
with the Lakedsemonians to stay the progress of the works 
and to abolish the democracy. 

The war had not yet broken out, but every one saw it to be 



BATTLE OF TANAGRA. 207 

imminent. The leading man at Athens, whose policy was 
menaced by it, was not disposed to await the danger: his 
plan was to anticipate it by prompt action. That the Athe- 
nians had in this another aim as well, and were earnestly re- 
solved to suppress a certain domestic faction, is shown by 
their conduct towards Kimon, who made his appearance at 
the very crisis of the struggle, in order to take part in it. 
His services Avere rejected by order of the Council of Five 
Hundred, because he was regarded as a friend to the Lake- 
diemonians. And undoubtedly he was what he was called — 
a Philolakon, that is, he desired the restoration of the old 
friendly relations with Sparta. Yet he was very far from 
wishing to force such an alliance upon Attica by means of 
external pressure. In his enforced inaction lie persuaded his 
friends and dependents to oppose the stoutest resistance to the 
Lakedoemonians. They sided with Athens when Pericles, 
with a force very inadequate to the requirements of his en- 
terprise, marched to encounter the Peloponncsians at Tanagra. 
On his side were ranged the Argives and Thessalians, then 
confederates of Athens ; but the Thessalian cavalry were the 
first to desert their place in the field and to pass over to the 
enemy. The Athenian army was defeated. The adherents 
of Kimon carried off the palm of valor, and fell side by side 
to the number of a hundred (November, b.c. 457). 

The defeat sustained by the Athenians, though severe, was 
scarcely decisive. Probably, too, the united front presented 
by Athens left little hope of successful intervention in Attica, 
and accordingly the Lakeda3monians, after making a few raids 
in the district of Megara, withdrew to Peloponnesus, leaving 
their allies, the Boeotians, to themselves. The latter had al- 
ready, two months after the battle of Tanagra, been defeat- 
ed by the Athenians at (Enophyta, so that Athens now con- 
solidated her power in Boeotia for the first time. Her internal 
dissensions had also ceased. Kimon, relieved from all sus- 
picion by the conduct of his friends, and regarded by the 
people with a sort of regretful longing, was again recalled, and 
attained, if not his old authority, at any rate to high respect. 
Once more he threw himself into those warlike enterprises in 
the eastern Mediterranean which characterize the last years 



208 TI11 '< ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

of his career. There even seemed to be some prospect of in- 
ducing Lakedf&mon to give these efforts a direct support. 
Pericles, too, was in accord with Kimon in this, his principal 
aim. Wo hear of his plan of bringing about a Panhellcnic 
association, designed to renew the war against the king of 
Persia and proseoute it with the utmost vigor. The motive 
was, as before, the duty of avenging on the Persians the out- 
rages committed on Grecian sanctuaries. Delegates from the 
different tribes were to meet at Alliens. We are informed 
that Pericles sent out four distinct embassies to this end, the 
most important of which is said to have been that sent to 
Sparta. There, however, Pericles failed to obtain a hearing, 
Sparta not having so completely resigned the possession of 
that hegemony which she had enjoyed in earlier days as to 
concede to her rival, Athens, the pre-eminence which this 
position would have secured her. Sparta might decline to 
assist the king of Persia against Athens, but could not bring 
herself to make common cause with Athens against the king. 
Without- Sparta the war against Persia could not be con- 
ducted with the energy which was necessary to insure the 
triumph upon which Kimoifs hopes were set. The utmost 
that could be attained was an armistice between Athens and 
Sparta, which was actually effected in the year 450. Athens 
had to adopt this expedient, without which she could not have 
Continued the war against Persia. Even in Sparta the mo- 
tives to hostility were not urgently felt in the immediate 
present, especially as long as Kimon was once more powerful 

and respected at Athens. The relations of war or peace with 
Sparta, the progress or resumption of the Persian war, the 
comparative influence of the two states upon the rest of 
Greece, tin' growth of the Delian League and its dependence 

upon Athens, the exile and return of Kimon, the plans of 
Pericles at this epoch and his personal relations to his great 
antagonist, are matters closely connected together and mutu- 
ally dependent. They form a parti-colored web, in which 
various efforts and tendencies, each with its own local charac- 
teristics, are combined. The armistice with Sparta was indis- 
pensable ti» the campaigns o( Kimon. But a great change 
inevitably took place when Kimon perished in the course of 



TRUCE WITH SPARTA. 209 

tho war, and that pence was concluded by which a period was 
put to the enterprises of the Persians against the ( i recks, and 
to those of the Athenians against the Persians. 

2. The Administration of Pericles. 

The life of Pericles entered, we may say, upon a new phase 
when the great rival with whom ho had so often contended 
and been reconciled was no more. Delivered from his oppo- 
sition, and, at the same time, from tho dangers of a war with 
Persia, he was able to indulge without impediment the design 
of bringing to an issue the struggle with Sparta. The occa- 
sion was this time afforded by a question which affected the 
whole Grecian world. 

As was the case in later days with the great hierarchical 
power of the West, it was indispensable to the satisfactory dis- 
charge of those semi-religious, semi-political functions which 
belonged to the Delphic oracle, that sanctuary and priesthood 
should alike be free from the territorial sovereignty of any 
foreign power. In the utterances of the oracle no deference 
was to be paid to the influence of a dominant state; it was to 
be itself of paramount authority. But the Athenians were of 
opinion that the priesthood, unable to dissociate itself entirely 
from human tendencies, was biassed in favor of Sparta, and 
therefore they raised no objection when the Phokians made 
themselves masters of the sacred district. This step, however, 
roused the Lakedieinonians to sympathetic efforts in defence 
of the sanctuary; they sent a military force which restored it, 
to its independence of the Phokians. At the same time they 
secured for themselves the jwomemteia, or the right of prece 
deuce in consulting the oracle, and caused the decree made 
on the subject to be engraved upon the forehead of the brazen 
wolf, a votive offering of the Delphians themsolves, which 
stood by the great altar. In this transaction Athens dis- 
covered a grievance. Without designing to break by the step 
the armistice which was still maintained, Pericles neverthe- 
less marched in his turn to Delphi, restored the territorial 
supremacy of the Phokians, and caused the right of precedence 
to be assigned to the Athenians, and the decree to that effect 
to be engraved upon the right side of the brazen wolf. 

14 



210 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

It was a question of honor between the two leading states. 
The ambition of Athens was satisfied by the new inscription, 
but the Spartans were in the highest degree annoyed by the 
whole proceeding. The understanding which had prevailed 
for some years was dissolved, yet some such understanding 
was essential to the maintenance of the general tranquillity. 
The old variances, so recently suspended, at once broke out 
anew. First of all, in Bceotia the party lately subdued by 
the Athenians rose once more. The Athenians immediately 
interfered with an armed force in favor of their own parti- 
sans, but were this time defeated at Coroneia (b.c. 447). This 
was the signal for a general movement against the power of 
Athens. The party in Locris and in Eubcea which was hostile 
to the Athenians had taken part in the battle, and the victory 
procured it the ascendency in both places. Athens could not 
prevent the restoration of the old autonomy in Bceotia, and 
when Pericles turned to Eubcea, in order here, at any rate, to 
maintain that supremacy which was most essential to the 
maritime power of Athens, he had to submit to see Megara, 
at the instigation of her kinsmen the Corinthians, revolt from 
Athens and join the Peloponncsian confederacy. 

A crisis occurred on the invasion of a Spartan army, under 
Pleistoanax, one of the two kings. Pericles earned the grati- 
tude of his countrymen by inducing in some way or other the 
Spartans to retire.* The Athenians succeeded in subduing 
Euboea and settling it according to their pleasure. Yet upon 

* I purposely abstain from repeating the statement that Pericles bribed 
the Spartan king himself, or Cleandridas, whom the Ephors associated 
with him. This was the conclusion arrived at in Sparta from an assertion 
of Pericles about the expenditure of a certain sum of money. So we sec 
from a fragment of Ephorus (fragm. 118 in "Hist. Graec. fragm." ed. 
Muller, i. p. 20G). Thukydides mentions the matter three times. In the 
place in his narrative to which it properly belongs he says not a word of 
the alleged bribery ; in the two other passages he tells us that Pleistoanax 
incurred the suspicion of having taken a bribe (ii. 21, ») tpvyi) avrif iyevero 
ik 27r«pr//c v6£avri xP'll- laffl iruoQ)\vai Tt)v avax<*>pi}aiv — cf. V. 1G). It he had 
regarded the charge as true, he would no doubt have adopted it in his 
history. Plutarch, however, with his invariable propensity to anecdote, 
does not hesitate to adopt it in his Life of Pericles as an indisputable fact 
(c. 22). 



THIRTY YEARS' TRUCE. 211 

the mainland they continued to be at a very great disadvan- 
tage. The Peloponnesian league had acquired fresh strength, 
and the Athenians saw themselves compelled to give up their 
possessions in Peloponnesus, especially Achaia, as well as 
Trcezene and Pagae, an important position for their com- 
munication with the peninsula. Even Nisaea was abandoned. 
Yet these losses, sensibly as they affected their influence upon 
the Grecian continent, were counterbalanced by a conces- 
sion still more significant, the acknowledgment of the Delian 
League. It was left open to states and cities which were 
members of neither confederacy to join either at pleasure. 

These events happened in 01. 83, 3 (b.c. 445) — the revolt of 
Mcgara and Eubcea, the invasion of Pleistoanax, the re-con- 
quest of Eubcea, and the conclusion of the treaty, which as- 
sumed the form of an armistice for thirty years. Great im- 
portance must be attributed to this settlement, as involving 
an acknowledgment which satisfied both parties and did jus- 
tice to the great interests at stake on either side. If Athens 
renounced some of her possessions, the sacrifice was compen- 
sated by the fact that Sparta recognized the existence of the 
naval supremacy of Athens, and the basis on which it rested. 
We may perhaps assume that the compromise between Peri- 
cles and Pleistoanax was the result of the conviction felt by 
both these leading men that a fundamental dissociation of the 
Peloponnesian from the Delian league was a matter of neces- 
sity. The Spartans wished to be absolutely supreme in the 
one, and resigned the other to the Athenians. There can be 
no doubt that Pericles was fully aware of what he gave up 
and what he gained in the transaction. After succeeding not 
only in rescuing Athens from a great peril, but in promoting 
her most essential interests, he obtained thenceforth a more 
unlimited control over public affairs. At the head of an in- 
telligent, restless, and enterprising Demos, requiring at once 
to be guided and to be kept in good-humor, he assumed a 
great position, which well repays the study of the historian. 
Pericles, the son of the victor of Mycale and of Agariste, 
the niece of that Cleisthenes who obtained for the democracy 
its preponderance at Athens, was thus by birth the inheri- 
tor of both tendencies — the tendency to develop the foreign 



212 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

power of Athens and the tendency to perfect her internal or- 
ganization. JEe had taken no share himself in the great Per- 
sian wars; lie had not helped to light out the great battle for 
life or death ; he came first upon the scene when the relative 
positions of both parties in the struggle were finally adjusted. 
For the place which he assumed as head and leader of the 
Demos lie was admirably adapted by education and training. 
His earliest training, one in thorough conformity with Greek 
conceptions, he received through a practised teacher, of 
whom, however, it was said that his mind was wholly set 
upon the art of eloquence after the model of the Sicilian 
school, which was also in vogue at Athens, in which politics 
and rhetoric were combined. It is perhaps still more im- 
portant to note that philosophers found a hearing at Athens, 
and were especially welcome guests in the house of Pericles. 
The ruling spirit in this society was Anaxagoras, of whom 
we shall have to speak later on. If we were called upon to 
give prominence to one of his views as exercising a greater 
immediate influence than the rest, we should select his doc- 
trine that those phenomena which lilled other men with ap- 
prehension for the future are to be conceived as natural occur- 
rences, on the score of which there was nothing to be feared. 
One who thus attached himself to the philosophers must ob- 
viously have been raised, in the formation of his designs and 
the whole conduct of life, far above others who were still 
encumbered by deixidaimonia, or the traditional superstition 
associated with unusual phenomena. Such a man was able 
always to keep a single eye to the business in hand. 

It was repeatedly affirmed in ancient times that Pericles 
originally had oligarchical leanings, that he avoided personal 
competition and endeavored to distinguish himself in war, 
but that as soon as he began to take a part in public affairs, 
and found himself confronted by an aristocratic faction, ho 
became aware that he could only attain to importance by 
securing the support of the people. We have already seen 
how unreservedly he took this course, and how, in conjunction 
with Ephialtes, he may be said to have been the true founder 
of the Demos as an independent power. Ephialtes in the 
meantime had been assassinated, it did not distinctly appear 



CHARACTER OF PERICLES. 213 

by whom ; but, if the act was intended as a death-blow to 
democracy, it had rather the opposite effect, Pericles rose 
through it to still greater influence. In his personal bearing 
Kimon had a vein of popularity which was wanting in Pericles. 
The latter is charged with haughtiness, and, though lie was 
really exempt from this fault, his character contained the 
analogous element of a proud reserve. Elevated as he was 
above trivialities of every kind, he preferred to remain a 
stranger to the ordinary relations of social life. Pericles took 
no other walk than that from his own house to the assembly 
in which he spoke. lie moved sedately, and is said to have 
prayed that no unseasonable word might ever escape his lips. 
From the fact that this is related of him we may perhaps con- 
clude that he really attained to the perfection he desired.* 
lie never displayed emotion, and even insults were powerless 
to excite him. 

We must bear in mind the influences which acted upon the 
Demos of Athens — a stage unrivalled in any age of the world, 
a plastic art no less magnificent, and the impetus which culture 
in its upward efforts never fails to impart to the minds of men. 
Much was required in order to guide, still more to control, as 
Pericles did, an assembly of this kind. As Thukydides says, 
he did not follow the multitude, the multitude followed him ; 
he did not flatter the many, but often took a line which 
brought him into collision with public opinion ; he inspired 
courage when men were inclined to fear, and when the people 
betrayed a presumptuous self-confidence likely to be detri- 
mental, he emphasized all the dangers to which such conduct 
might lead. The people possessed the power to decide, but 
Pericles was able so to guide the assembly that the power of 
the people was but the basis of his own authority. Every one 
recognized that he sought nothing for himself, but made the 
greatness and well-being of Athens his sole end and aim. 
Under him the democracy acquired almost a monarchical 

* The principal evidence is that of Stesimbrotus, whose statements 
Plutarch has combined with some expressions from the comic poets. 
Such passages are even now read with pleasure. W. A. Schmidt (" Das 
perikleischc Zcitaltcr," ii. p. 9) reckons Stesimbrotus among the primary 
authorities for the epoch. 



214 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

character; the city was ruled by its first citizen. We have a 
bust of Pericles, a work of antiquity, of which the full face 
seems to wear an expression of dignity and energy, whilst the 
profile indicates a flexible and even designing character. 
Whilst he directed the general business of the state, he had to 
use every means in order to keep down his opponents. They 
were aristocrats who were still attached to Sparta; with these 
lie fought many a battle; but he had the Demos upon his 
side, lie succeeded in removing his antagonists by ostracism, 
and in the course of these encounters he acquired a most un- 
usual degree of power. He gathered in his own hands the 
substance of administrative authority, for he was president of 
the Stratcgi, and with this office was associated the duty of 
providing for the tranquillity of the city. To him was com- 
mitted the care of the public festivals, and, most important of 
all, the disposition of the finances. Possessed of this authority 
— an authority sufficient to determine the policy of the state 
— Pericles, instead of attempting to recover by direct aggres- 
sion, which would probably have been fruitless, the ground 
he had lost, made it his object not only to maintain the mari- 
time supremacy of Athens, which the last armistice had con- 
firmed, but to develop it into a power which should no longer 
be compelled to take account of the Peloponncsians. 

The island of Sam OS, to which belonged the glory of having 
been the earliest naval power of importance amongst the Hel- 
lenes, refused to submit to the leadership of Athens. The 
treasury of Delos had now been transferred to that city, and 
she exercised a sensible constraint over the internal affairs of 
the members of the league. Put even in her foreign rela- 
tions, for instance, with Miletus, Samos would suffer no inter- 
ference. Things came to such a pass that the Samians, who 
still retained an oligarchical constitution, made an alliance 
with the satrap of Sardis, which enabled them to look forward 
to the support of a Phoenician fleet. Pericles, who had just 
made preparations to besiege Samos, considered it necessary 
at all hazards to forestall the interference of the Phoenicians. 
Put whilst he diverted his attention to Caria, in order to en- 
counter the Phoenicians when they should approach, the Sami- 
ans succeeded in attacking and destroying his siege-works. 



REVOLT OF SAMOS. 215 

He was compelled to return to Samos, where, in consequence 
of the arrival of succors from Athens, and through the as- 
sistance of adherents in the island itself, he succeeded in com- 
pletely overmastering the Sainians and compelling them to 
submit to Athens (n.c. 440). There was no further motive 
for the despatch of a Pho3iiician licet, and accordingly we 
hear no more of it. It is very probable that the Persians 
recalled to mind the compromise which had been effected a 
few years before. They were unwilling to take a course 
which would give the pretender in Egypt, who still held his 
ground, the assistance of a Grecian fleet. The fact that the 
oligarchical party in Samos endeavored to support itself in its 
resistance to Athens by calling in the aid of Persia, lent to 
the democracy of Athens a Panhcllenic coloring which be- 
came it well, while the subjugation of that island gave Attica 
a more decisive ascendency over the league than she had ever 
before possessed. 

Pericles had instituted experimental cruises once a year, 
each squadron consisting of sixty ships, which were eight 
months at sea ; and for this the citizens who served on board 
received pay. In this way, however, the fact was made strik- 
ingly apparent that the money of the confederates was used 
by Athens to maintain the fleet by which she kept the league 
under her control. Pericles regarded it as absolutely neces- 
sary that the maritime forces should be ready for service at 
any moment. Fresh attention was also bestowed upon the 
improvement of the siege-train, already a point in which 
Athenian strategy excelled. Pericles himself was famous as 
the inventor of the ram and the testudo, although perhaps 
Artemon had most to do with their invention. This also must 
have contributed towards keeping the members of the league 
in a state of subjection. 

The principal grievance of the confederates, that the money 
which they had collected in order to maintain a common cause 
was arbitrarily expended at Athens, had found an echo in 
Athens itself, where there was always more or less a party of 
opposition. Pericles replied that Athens was under an obliga- 
tion to protect the members of the league ; provided she ful- 
filled this duty, it was quite within her province to dispose of 



21G THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

their contributions at her pleasure. This disposal of public 
moneys in the interest of a single nationality dominant over 
the rest was something new in the world. We still possess a 
monument of this epoch in the ruins of the buildings raised 
by Pericles, which still enthrall the admiration of mankind. In 
the era of Pericles the art of sculpture seems to have reached 
its climax. The annals of the Parthenon, which Pericles 
erected, and against which the waves of eventful fortune have 
continued to break from century to century even to the most 
recent times, are a familiar tale: even the deportation of its 
still surviving fragments is part of that chain of events which 
links together East and West. Let us endeavor to grasp the 
historical conditions under which that splendid edifice was 
raised. 

The sanctuaries of the citadel of Athens, destroyed by the 
Persians, had already been restored. Pericles chose for the 
erection of an additional temple a site which the Peisistratidae 
had already designed for that purpose, the still vacant area 
of the Hecatompedon. From this elevation the view extends 
from the marble hills of Attica, over shore and sea, as far as 
yEgina. Here a sanctuary was constructed, designed not so 
much for worship in the strictest sense as for festal proces- 
sions, and with a very practical and even political object as 
well. This object was the custody of the public treasure, 
which was then more considerable than ever before or after- 
wards ; it amounted to 10,000 talents, a very large part of 
which, about three fifths, had been contributed by the mem- 
bers of the league. This sum, whether of coined money or 
not, was intended, as Pericles himself once announced, for 
prospective warlike enterprises on a large scale, and formed 
a reserve fund on which Athens, should she find herself em- 
barrassed, might depend. The control of the treasury was 
confided to a number of Athenian citizens; the money itself, 
however, was, as more than one inscription testifies, kept in 
the 02)isthodomos of the Parthenon. In the cella were votive 
offerings of great value, and at the entrance stood the colossal 
image of the goddess, emblematic of the power and spirit and 
the self-reliance of Athens. The statue of Athene was chrys- 
elephantine, and proceeded, like the Olympian Zeus, from 



ATHENS UNDER PERICLES. 217 

the hand of Pheidias. In one hand she bore a Nike, adorned 
with garlands, the symbol of those victories to which all was 
due; on the other side were seen the spear and shield, whilst 
on her breast was the a'gis with the Gorgon's head. Bold 
indeed would have been the hand that approached her sacri- 
legiously. * 

Even into the great affairs of state there entered a personal 
element. The honors paid to the victories over the Persians 
magnified at the same time the names of Miltiades and of 
Kimon, and here, in like manner, the likeness of Pericles was 
figured upon the shield of the goddess. It might be said 
that in this monument the whole administration of Pericles 
was imaged — first, the great place in the world which he had 
won for Athens; next, her maritime preponderance; for the 
members of the league were the servants of the powerful 
capital, and had no voice even in the disposal of their own 
money. The same feeling is expressed in the other struct- 
ures of Pericles. Such, for example, was that theatre upon 
the promontory of Sunium, which had for its spectacle the 
manoeuvres of the triremes, and commanded a view of the 
Kyklades. Such, above all, was Peirseus, the port of Athens, 
with its spacious squares, its broad streets, intersecting one 
another at right angles, and its separate harbors for the war- 
like and the mercantile marine, which have served as the 
model of all similar structures in later times. In one of these 
harbors was concentrated the power, in the other the wealth, 
of Athens, in the days of Pericles. 

In the Acropolis the ancient sanctuaries of the city were, 
so to speak, shut off from the rest by a row of Caryatides. 
Stately rows of columns served at once to unite and to sep- 
arate the upper and the lower city. These were the Propylcea, 
the type of which has formed a model for all succeeding 

* Thus Pausanius describes the statue which he saw. Yet it is very 
noteworthy that in the statuette which is almost universally acknowl- 
edged to be the best copy of the original, and which was found by my 
lamented friend Lenormant, ;vgis, spear, and shield arc wanting. But 
this is but one among a thousand doubtful points connected with the 
whole subject, as may be seen from the work of Michaelis on the Par- 
thenon. 



218 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

efforts of art. In the lower city Pericles established places 
of exercise for the future manhood of the state, in the old 
Lyceum, as well as in the gardens of the Academy, which, 
refreshed by the waters of the Ilissus, recovered their rural 
aspect. The Gymnasium, the Lyceum, the Academy, are 
names the mere mention of which enables us to recognize 
how precious to posterity arc these institutions, designed 
alike for the improvement of the body and of the mind, and 
serving, so to speak, as types in the history of culture. 
Whether we admire the policy of Pericles or not, the spirit- 
ual energy with which he gave life to the happy inventions 
of his creative genius has raised up for him an enduring mon- 
ument in the history of our race.* 

In the execution of his buildings Pericles was assisted by 
a number of men of tried or rising ability, over whom Phei- 
dias exercised a certain superintendence. It may with good 
reason be asserted that Pericles, in undertaking these works, 
had also social and political ends in view, lie designed that 
the lowest class of citizens, which scarcely took any part in 
the maritime expeditions and warlike enterprises, should yet 
derive some benefit from the state. He gave employment to 
manual labor — such employment, indeed, that the whole arti- 
san class, whose assistance was invited by those immediately 
concerned in the buildings, found adequate occupation. No 
one was to be idle or dilatory ; every one was to have the 
means of subsistence. The buildings rose with a rapidity 
which astonished the world. f Athens became a city in the 
true sense of the word, whilst the other Greek sites remained 
villages — the first city in the West, and in the world. 

The works of art which Pericles called into existence wcro 
of a religious nature, and the goddess to whose glory they 
were dedicated was the object of universal adoration. Put 
for that protection of philosophy to which we have already 
referred the powerful statesman had special and personal mo- 
tives. In the position which he held, it was an advantage to 

* The description of Alt ion ami Athens, as they were at this epoch, 
may he read with pleasure in Curtins, "Gr. Gcsch." ii. 326 sq. 
t The Parthenon was completed in 438, the Propyleea in 433-32. 



RUPTURE WITH SPARTA. 219 

him that he was an Alcmreonid ; for nothing is more capti- 
vating to the popular mind than the union of personal merit, 
high birth, and popular aims. In the case of Pericles, how- 
ever, the advantage had its darker side. The destiny of the 
AlcmaeonidsB was closely linked with a trespass against the 
gods who guarded the rights of asylum — a trespass for which 
they had been forced to pay a heavy penalty. The purifica- 
tion which Epimenides had made had by no means sufficed 
to efface the memory of the deed. It was brought up once 
more against Pericles himself. The Lakednemonians, who 
saw in him their most prominent enemy, upon one occasion 
called upon the Athenians to banish him as one upon whom 
a stain rested. Nevertheless, we are told that the denuncia- 
tion, as coming from the enemy, made but little impression 
upon the people of Athens. Yet the Lakedaunonians had an 
unbroken succession of sympathizers in Athens, and we may 
perhaps assume that in this vulnerable side of his position lay 
one motive for his attachment to the philosophers, and espe- 
cially to Anaxagoras, whose teaching included a rational prin- 
ciple, which gave no encouragement to accusations of this 
kind. 

To a similar motive may be traced the reproaches levelled 
at his friend Aspasia, who, not being an Athenian, could not 
be legally married to him, but who lived with him as his wife. 
She was what was called a sojy/iistria, with none of the preju- 
dices which limited the horizon of the Greek women gener- 
ally, and she fascinated him not only by her beauty, but by 
her genius and the charms of her conversation. She was ac- 
cused not only of encouraging various domestic irregularities, 
but also of want of reverence for the gods: she is said to 
have distinguished the women of her household by the names 
of the Muses. Pheidias incurred a similar suspicion by trac- 
ing on the shield of Athene the figures of Pericles and of 
himself. This combination of popular absolutism with a 
philosophic divergence from the popular belief provoked a 
reaction which at times proved embarrassing. 

No one would be inclined to deny the general statement 
that subordinate motives of a personal character have at times 
exerted an influence in affairs of the greatest compass. But 



220 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

the situation which we are now to consider cannot be ex- 
plained by such motives. The policy which Athens had fol- 
lowed during the years immediately preceding the time we 
have arrived at led inevitably to a breach with Sparta. There 
were, in particular, two questions at issue which tended to 
this result. 

Pericles and the Athenian people, not content with the 
dominion of the eastern Mediterranean, had always kept an 
eye upon the West. As they had colonized Sinope, on the 
Black Sea, so they planted colonies of Ionian descent in Italy, 
as, for example, at Thurii, and they took part in the founda- 
tion of Naples. In the West, however, the Dorian colonies, 
especially those from Corinth, were in the ascendant, and it was 
not possible to wrest anything from them as long as they re- 
mained united. According^, the rupture which took place 
between Korkyra, the principal Corinthian colony, and the 
mother city, must have been a welcome event to the Athe- 
nians. A war ensued, in which the Korkyrceans, just at the 
crisis when they were in danger of being overpowered, re- 
ceived support and deliverance from Athens. The Atheni- 
ans had more immediate cause to be jealous of Corinth than 
of Sparta. Their precarious relations with Megara were due 
to Corinth, and at this juncture another conflict of interests 
arose in the neighborhood of the Thracian possessions of Ath- 
ens. Here Athens had drawn into her league towns which 
were Corinthian colonies, and which still maintained various 
relations with their mother city. This was especially the 
case with Potidsea ; and whilst Athens would not tolerate 
this intercourse, Potid&a, true to a venerable tradition, would 
not desist from it. The latter received support in this quar- 
rel from the king of Makedonia, who saw with reluctance the 
growth of the Athenian power in his immediate neighbor- 
hood. It was of the utmost importance to Athens to main- 
tain against this powerful king her colonies in the North, and 
the maritime preponderance which their possession helped to 
secure. Kimon had been blamed for not inflicting, when the 
opportunity presented itself, a crushing blow on the kingdom 
of Makedonia. When we reflect what consequences arose at 
a later time from the relations with Makedonia, we cannot 



RUPTURE WITH SPARTA. 221 

shut our eyes to the fact that an interest which intimately 
concerned the whole Hellenic world was here ill question. 
The power of the Athenians in the North formed a common 
bulwark for all alike. But the requirements of foreign pol- 
icy are very often found irreconcilable with the conditions of 
internal tranquillity. It cannot be doubted that the conduct 
of the Athenians in interfering in the disputes between a me- 
tropolis and one of her colonies, and in trying to sever the 
ties by which another was still attached to her, did violence 
to the fundamental ideas of the old Hellenic world, and was 
only too well adapted to rouse lasting enmity against them. 
The Athenians could not, perhaps, avoid this, since their 
power in the West and North brought them into conflict 
with Corinth. If Athens was to strengthen her power in the 
North, or extend it in the West, a struggle with Corinth was 
inevitable. Such a struggle, however, could not fail to bring 
into the completest relief the old opposition between Athens 
and Sparta. Both in Botidsea and in Korkyra Athens en- 
countered that Dorian element which had its chief support 
in the power of Lakedsemon. The Lakedsemonians hesitated 
for a while, but presently made demands, especially one for 
the autonomy of all Greek cities, with which Athens could 
not have complied without renouncing her whole system. 
Bericles, in spite of this protest, boldly determined to con- 
tinue his course. The question was not whether he should 
undertake the war, but whether he could avoid it. Bericles 
would not abandon the policy he had hitherto pursued, even 
at the risk of war with Sparta. In the speech to the people 
which is ascribed to him, special prominence is given to the 
advantage which naval forces have over land forces in open 
warfare. The naval power of Athens was, in fact, the main- 
spring of every public act, and the democratic people followed 
implicitly the line of thought taken by its leader. The way 
in which the Spartans viewed the matter is clear from the 
declaration of one of the Ephors that they could not allow 
the Athenians to become any greater, or see the members of 
the league sacrificed to their ambition. 

We may, perhaps, at this point, recall to mind the last 
accommodation, by which the power of Athens was checked 



222 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

upon the mainland and directed towards the sea. On the 
latter element Athens had now become so strong that she 
could not have endured any subordination to Sparta, such as 
would have been implied in her giving way to the allies of 
Sparta in the North and "West. Thus the Delian League 
was, so to speak, encroaching upon the province of the Pelo- 
ponnesian. On the other hand, the Spartans made demands 
— such, for example, as that for the abrogation of a decree 
made to prevent the commerce of the Megarians in Attica — 
which galled the proud independence of a free community. 
At this time, also, the Thebans, who were allies of Sparta, 
made in the immediate neighborhood of Athens an attempt 
to master Platrea, an ally of Athens, which led to proceed- 
ings of extraordinary violence.* Thus the war became inev- 
itable. 

The Lakedremonians, under their king, Archidamus, took 
the field. An emissary was sent by them on purpose to as- 
certain whether, now that the war was really imminent, the 
Athenians were not alarmed, and accessible to peaceful sug- 
gestions. But the Athenians sent him back without so much 
as hearing him, and refused to accept any proposals from an 
enemy in the field. Pericles, to whose influence this resolu- 
tion may be traced, had already made preparations such as he 
thought would enable him to brave without anxiety an inva- 
sion of the enemy. Never was the authority of a leading cit- 
izen, who still remained but a citizen like the rest, more sig- 
nally displayed. Plis intention was to limit the defence to the 
city and a few strong places ; the open country he resigned 
unreservedly to the enemy. In the country the old indepen- 
dent life of its different inhabitants, which had been inter- 
rupted some centuries before by the union of all in one city, 
was not yet forgotten ; after the devastation of the Persian 
wars the proprietors had established themselves again, and 
loved to spend their days upon their estates. By the ordi- 

* From this event the breaking-out of the Pcloponnesian war is dated ; 
in fact, Thukydides himself makes this the starting-point (ii. c. 1 ad in.). 
According to the calculations of Bockh ( u Zur Geschichte der Mondcyclen," 
p. 78 sq.) the surprise of Platsea took place in the beginning of April, 
431 (01.87,1). 



OUTBREAK OF WAR. 223 

nance passed at the instance of Pericles, through which they 
were, one and all, compelled to abandon house and home, and 
to withdraw into the city, they were touched in the most 
sensitive point. Nevertheless, they acquiesced ; many even 
broke away the woodwork of their houses, and took it with 
them within the walls. In their search for places in which 
to establish themselves, they were directed to whatever open 
spaces still remained, or to the temples and shrines, which 
were made over to them. Their discomfort increased their 
ill -humor, which reached its climax when the Lakedsemo- 
nians burst into Attica, and the population pent within the 
walls saw their property ravaged almost before their eyes, 
without being allowed to employ their arms in self-defence. 
It was part of the design of Pericles to avoid a battle in the 
open field; only the strong places and fortresses were to be 
held ; the real battle was to be fought on the sea. The idea 
which had been ascribed to Themistocles was thus realized in 
its fullest extent, although under circumstances very different 
to those originally contemplated. For Themistocles had com- 
bated the national enemy, who menaced the country with per- 
petual bondage. The Lakedsemonians only wished to prevent 
the predominance of Athens, and to maintain the balance of 
power. Yet the consequence was now, no less than then, that 
the open country was laid waste far and wide. Pericles de- 
signed to retaliate for the ravages committed in Attica b} 7 rav- 
ages in Laconia; the Lakedsemonians, however, were able to 
send timely assistance to defend the places menaced, and as 
yet the descents made by the Athenians were affairs of no 
great moment. 

There was, however, another action of theirs which augured 
hostilities of the severest character. Amid the confusions 
occasioned by the accession of Megara to the Athenian league 
and the alliance formed in consequence between Corinth, Ep- 
idaurus, and .zEgina, the Athenians had succeeded in getting 
possession of .zEgina itself, and the island was compelled to 
give up its fleet and to acknowledge the supremacy of Ath- 
ens. The Spartans, being at that time at peace with Athens, 
had not interfered. But, when the war broke out, vEgina, as 
being situated between the regions in which the rival powers 



224 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

were respectively supreme, became the natural object of their 
mutual jealousy. Sparta demanded the liberation of iEgina ; 
Athens ascribed the hostility of Sparta to the instigation of 
the discontented /Eginetans. On the outbreak of war she 
resolved to render the island incapable of any resistance, and 
not merely to subdue it — that, indeed, she had already done 
— but to appropriate it entirely. It was as if the old antago- 
nism between Dorians and Ionians were here reappearing, 
with no attempt at disguise. The yEginetans, who were of 
Dorian stock, were expelled, with their wives and children, 
from their possessions, which were divided among Athenian 
kleruchs, who were regarded as Ionians by descent. Some of 
the exiles found an asylum in Spartan territory, such as the 
Athenians had on a former occasion provided for the Messe- 
nians. 

Such an event was well adapted to revive the old enmity 
between Dorians and Ionians, and nothing was to be expected 
but a long and bitter struggle. The Athenians had never 
been more powerful ; but, on the other hand, the Lakedcemo- 
nians were in a condition to maintain the balance against 
them. The situation of the Athenians involved, indeed, pos- 
sible perils, but at the same time held out to them magnificent 
prospects, when they were visited by a misfortune for which 
no human being could have been prepared. In the second 
year of the war a pestilent malady broke out, against which 
no effective remedy could be discovered, and which demanded 
innumerable victims. "Whole families perished. It is proba- 
ble that the plague was introduced through the commerce by 
sea from Ethiopia and Egypt, where, it is said, it had first ap- 
peared ; for it manifested itself first in the port of Athens. 
But it cannot be doubted that the gathering of the popula- 
tion in the capital under the circumstances we have already 
mentioned — circumstances so pernicious to physical well-be- 
ing — contributed much to the intensity and to the spread of 
the disease. The disease, if originally due to other causes, 
was able to attack a closely packed population with disastrous 
effect. An oracle was quoted, according to which a curse 
had been laid upon any attempt to build in certain quarters 
remote from the centre of the city. Thukydides observes 



THE PLAGUE AT ATHENS. 225 

that the misfortune arose, not from the curse, but from the 
circumstances which rendered building in these regions a 
necessity. The pestilence at that time broke out only in 
populous places, and the Peloponnesus, where everything con- 
tinued under the old and familiar conditions, was unassailed 
by it. At the very moment when it broke out in Athens, 
Archidamus and his army had once more advanced into At- 
tica. In consequence of the fresh immigration, especially of 
the humbler classes, which was thus occasioned, the pestilence 
increased in severity, and the Spartans found no real opposi- 
tion. But the smoke which rose from the cremation of tho 
dead in the city reminded them that they might themselves 
catch the infection, and they withdrew without delay. Mean- 
while the sickness, which seemed to be in alliance with tho 
Spartans, appeared in the Athenian fleet as well. The fleet 
had again attempted descents, in which it had succeeded bet- 
ter than in the previous year, and had done considerable dam- 
age. The spectacle of two powers, which, if united, might 
have achieved a world-wide influence, tearing each other to 
pieces in this furious and hopeless struggle, is indeed a fear- 
ful one to contemplate. 

The situation of Pericles in Athens itself grew daily more 
difficult. In consequence of the devastation of the country 
and of the pestilence he lost the good -will of the people, 
ready, as usual, to attribute every calamity to its leaders. 
Scarcely, however, had he recovered his authority when tho 
pestilence, now almost extinct, seized him and carried him off 
(cir. Sept. 429 B.C.). 

Pericles is one of those leaders of aristocratic origin who, 
having placed themselves at the head of the people, have 
roused them to the kind of life proper to democracy. He 
cannot be compared to Aristeides, or even to Solon. lie had 
not the moral purity of impulse by which these were guided. 
He followed completely in the footsteps of his great uncle 
Cleisthenes. Cleisthenes was the proper founder of the 
Demos, and Pericles made the Demos master of the wholo 
body politic, and so perfected its organization that the possi- 
bility of reviving the aristocratic principle seemed almost out 
of the question. The aim which prompted all his acts was 

15 



220 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

tho development of the power of Athens. This end the de- 
mocracy itself was adapted to further, inasmuch as there were 
democratic movements taking place in every part of Greece, 
which now sought support in Athens. At the same time, 
however, Pericles made the authority of Athens over the 
maritime league so strong as to overbear all resistance. lie 
prevented the formation of any connections with Persia 
among the members of the league, and suppressed by force 
of arms the attempt made by the most important among the 
islands to assume an independent position. 

The greatness of the city was founded upon her influence 
as a democracy and as a maritime power. In each of these 
directions Pericles came in conflict with Sparta, not to speak 
of the antagonism which he inherited as an Alcmceonid. lie 
was well aware that he was not a match for the power of the 
Peloponnesians on land, but, in order not to succumb to it at 
the first onset, he had recourse to a method which, however 
heroic in itself, was destined to be fatal to himself and to 
Athens. It would, no doubt, have been possible, whilst sacri- 
ficing the open country to the inroads of the Peloponnesians, 
to maintain and even to strengthen the substantial power of 
Athens, and thus to establish her maritime preponderance on 
a secure basis ; while the enemy's attacks by land would have 
to be gradually abandoned, had they led to no result. It was 
a tragic fatality which, as we have seen, frustrated these an- 
ticipations by the intervention of natural forces against which 
no foresight could have provided. That pestilence broke out 
which is known to every reader through the incomparable 
description of Thukydides. It crippled forever the efforts of 
Athens, and brought the life of Pericles to an end in the full 
tide of his active career. To what goal he would have guided 
Athens few would be bold enough to conjecture. However 
vast his enterprises, ideal aims and the sense of beauty had 
the same fascination as ever for his spirit. By one side of 
his character he was led in promoting art to strengthen re- 
ligion, by the other in promoting philosophy to clear the way 
for freedom of scientific inquiry. The result has been that 
one of the great epochs of culture is designated by his name. 
If there be earthly immortality, it is this. 



CLEON. 227 

The death of Pericles was followed by radical changes in 
the state. It is a general truth that men of high importance 
can never be replaced, unless, indeed, the circumstances could 
be repeated out of which all that made their position indi- 
vidual has grown. The death of the great leader and first 
citizen was doubly felt, because he left no successor. Amid 
all the agitation of democracy Pericles had maintained unim- 
paired the unity which results from a guiding idea. After 
his death a general disintegration was inevitable, and the di- 
visions which he had been able to keep in abeyance refused 
any longer to be postponed. 

3. Cleon and Ms Epoch. 
Among the opponents of Pericles who towards the close 
of his career struggled against the power with which he was 
invested, one of the most energetic was Cleon, a man whom 
the great comic poet of the time has exposed to the derision 
and contempt of posterity. Cleon was one of the industrial 
order, and supported himself by a tannery, in which he em- 
ployed slaves. His business bringing him into contact with 
those classes which formed the great bulk of the citizens, he 
shared their sentiments and expressed their views in effective 
speeches, and thus after the death of Pericles attained pre- 
dominant influence. He was a man of humble origin, with- 
out the education which was then regarded as essential, 
whether for private or public life. But from the very nature 
of democracy it was to be expected that a man of this kind 
might make his influence felt in the vortex of political strife. 
In Aristophanes Cleon appears as "the heaven-hated tanner," 
the "scandalous bawler," the "raker-up of filth," with whose 
rancor all public deliberations and trials are tainted. In one 
play he is represented as the steward of Demos, who contrives 
to rule his master and ill-treat all the other slaves. It is one 
of the acts upon which Aristophanes prides himself, that when 
no one had sufficient courage to put on the mask of Cleon for 
the forthcoming representation of this piece at the Lensean 
festival, he himself undertook the part, a step by which he 
necessarily incurred the deadly hatred of the satirized dema- 
gogue. 



*22S THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

This picture has in later times been regarded as historical ; 
yet I should not venture to give a place in history even to 
isolated traits from it, so natural was it for comedy to bring 
upon the stage a caricature adapted to the humors of the 
time. The representation has no doubt some traits of truth, 
on which it must have depended for its effectiveness, but its 
sole support is the inventive malice of the poet. If we wish, 
I will not say to defend, but to judge of Cleon, we must only 
try to estimate the share which he really took in the adminis- 
tration of the state ; and there we see evidences of a fierce 
and violent disposition. "We must proceed without delay to 
speak of the conflicts in which he took a prominent part, 
because they bring into distinctness those relations between 
Athens and her maritime confederacy which form one of the 
most important among the motive forces of the time. 

Cleon appears as a democratic leader who despised no 
means by which he might win and secure the favor of the 
multitude. From him proceeded the increase of the pay of 
the heliasts to three times its previous amount, a heavy bur- 
den to the state, which, however, served to establish in the 
popular assembly a party absolutely under the control of the 
demagogue. The nature of his influence may be gathered 
from his conduct upon the revolt of Lesbos. This revolt im- 
plied an attempt to break through the whole system upon 
which the power of Athens depended. The Lesbians were 
the most powerful of the allies of Athens in the league, and 
the least burdened of any, but, as it is expressed in the speech 
which Thukydides attributes to their ambassadors, it was 
only mutual fear which maintained even a tolerable under- 
standing between Athens and Lesbos. To the Athenians the 
considerable naval power possessed by the Lesbians was a 
source of suspicion and annoyance, whilst the superiority of 
the Athenians excited in the Lesbians feelings of anxiety 
and mistrust, and they were afraid that after being employed 
to subjugate others they would themselves have to undergo 
the same fate in their turn. So long as Athens was in full 
possession of her overwhelming power they kept quiet. But 
the Athenians had now been weakened by the various costly 
enterprises on which they embarked, and more still by tho 



REVOLT OF LESBOS. 229 

pestilence, whilst at the same time the vicissitudes of the war 
encouraged the Lesbians to hope for the support of Lake- 
dsemon, to whom they had previously appealed in vain. They 
began therefore seriously to entertain the idea of opposing 
the Athenians. 

The Athenians heard of the first steps taken in this direc- 
tion, and hastened to encounter them. On the other hand, 
the Mytilemeans, who headed the movement in Lesbos, learned 
what was intended against them, and prepared to secure their 
own safety. Accordingly, when the Athenians required the 
Mytilcnfeans to destroy their fortifications and deliver up 
their ships, the latter resolved to refuse such a demand (July, 
428 B.C.). Nor had they much trouble in drawing to their 
side the Lakedremonians and the Peloponnesian league. The 
chief inducement was the hope that all the members of the 
Delian League would then take the same course, and be en- 
abled to sever their connection with Athens, a blow by which 
her power would be utterly annihilated. The mere fact that 
Lesbos abandoned the Athenian league and passed over to 
the Peloponnesian was in itself a momentous reverse. Yet 
the consequences were disastrous to Mytilene. The Pelopon- 
nesians did indeed send a fleet to sea, but it did not make its 
appearance in the iEgean until it was too late. The Athe- 
nians, with their wonted promptitude, had brought all their 
forces to bear upon Mytilene, and had a portion of the in- 
habitants of the island on their side ; they were chiefly as- 
sisted, however, by a democratic movement in the city itself. 
The constitution of Mytilene was oligarchical, and thus far 
relations were already established between the city and the 
Peloponnesians. But in the urgent danger of their invest- 
ment by the Athenians, who established also some smaller 
fortifications, from which they pressed the city hard, the 
Mytilenceans resolved to arm the populace, and that too with 
the equipment of heavy-armed troops. Herein they followed 
the advice of a Lakedsemonian emissary, but the result quite 
belied their expectations. Once in possession of these arms, 
the commons of Mytilene thought they might renounce their 
allegiance to the ruling families, and, by threatening to desert 
to the Athenians, they compelled the authorities to conclude 



230 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

a peace with the latter, the conditions of which implied noth- 
ing less than a surrender at discretion. The democracy of 
Athens was in league with the democrats of Mytilene. The 
popular assembly at Athens,- in which Cleon's voice was at 
this time paramount, had an opportunity of sitting in judg- 
ment upon the men who were doubly their enemies, antago- 
nistic alike to their polity and their power. The first resolu- 
tion of the Athenians was accordingly such as was to be ex- 
pected from the rage to which they were transported by the 
conduct of Mytilene, a rage which the powerful demagogue 
fanned into a flame. 

The principal offenders, nearly a thousand in number, had 
been sent by the Athenian admiral to Tenedos. The resolu- 
tion of the assembly was to execute not only these, but with 
them all the adult Mytileneeans, and to make their wives and 
children slaves, in the exercise of that terrible right of war 
out of which, as we have shown, slavery first and principally 
arose in the East. Cleon insisted upon this, maintaining that 
the whole body of the people was guilty, not the leaders 
alone ; that the revolt had taken place without any justifica- 
tion whatever, and must be punished without mercy, in order 
to deter others who might be inclined to follow this example ; 
that otherwise the power of Athens, which was derived from 
the contributions of the members of the league, would be in 
danger of collapsing. The thing seemed, he said, so obvious 
that he suspected all who were of a different opinion of hav- 
ing proved accessible to bribes from the Mytilenseans. It 
was, in fact, Cleon's intention to exact a revenge of unmiti- 
gated severity, which would be effective in proportion to its 
speedy execution, and would serve to keep the whole league 
in check. He was so far successful that a ship was de- 
spatched to the general in command at Lesbos with direc- 
tions to carry out the punishment without delay. 

But Cleon had not yet disposed of all opposition. On the 
following day the question was brought once more before the 
popular assembly, and Diodotus, one of Cleon's antagonists, 
rose to give effect to the arguments on the other side. He 
rejected triumphantly and with dignity the insinuations of 
Cleon. Adopting the premise of Cleon, that the naval do- 



CLEON AND DIODOTUS. 231 

minion and the support derived from it must be maintained 
at any cost, lie showed that this end could not be reached by 
punishing all desertions with death and destruction ; deser- 
tions would still take place, and it would be impossible to be 
always engaged in besieging and overpowering suspected al- 
lies, who, when they had nothing but the extreme of ven- 
geance to expect, would be driven to defend themselves to 
the last drop of their blood. The best policy was to take 
care of the interests of their allies, and to avoid vexatious in- 
terference with them. The speeches both for and against are 
set side by side in the inimitable account given by the his- 
torian of the epoch. Cleon does not deny that the dominion 
which was exercised was a tyranny; if the Athenians have 
no just right to it, their duty is, he argues, to give it up and 
lead quiet lives at home ; if, on the other hand, they think 
they have a title to empire, they must shrink from no extreme 
of violence in order to maintain it. Though Diodotus ob- 
jected that such a course was more likely to imperil than to 
consolidate their dominion, a doubt may well be entertained 
whether lie could have made much impression by an argu- 
ment in itself of questionable cogency ; but he adduced an- 
other which was well adapted to strike home. In all the 
cities connected with the league there were two parties, the 
one aristocratic and averse from the Athenians, the other 
democratic and inclining to their side. The victory in Les- 
bos had been due simply to the fact that the commons, so 
soon as the opportunity was given them, set themselves in 
opposition to the aristocracy. To execute the decree already 
passed would have been nothing less than to annihilate the 
natural allies of Athens. All the democracies which formed 
part of the league would have been alienated at a single 
stroke. 

So great was the influence of Cleon that the result was still 
uncertain ; but when the question was put to the vote the 
resolution of the previous day was rescinded, and another 
vessel was sent after the one which had already departed witli 
the message, the former being amply furnished with every- 
thing needful to enable and to encourage the oarsmen to re- 
lieve one another at their work, and thus to secure a rapid 



232 T JIE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

passage. The consequence was that the second vessel entered 
the harbor at the very moment when the Athenian com- 
mander was reading the first despatch, which had just reached 
him, and which was now recalled. The city suffered no fur- 
ther punishment, but the principal offenders, who were then 
at Tenedos, were executed without exception — a savage re- 
venge, which nevertheless, as we have seen, was by compari- 
son an act of grace. These events took place in the spring of 
427 b.c. The main result was that the maritime ascendency 
of Athens in the archipelago remained unimpaired. A Lake- 
dsemonian fleet which appeared in these waters returned home 
again, having effected nothing. The celebration of a great 
festival at Delos was utilized in order to lend a religious sanc- 
tion to the restored supremacy of Athens. 

By land, however, the Peloponnesians maintained their su- 
periority. The reduction of Platoea, which, after a long and 
strenuous resistance, fell in the summer of 427 B.C. into the 
hands of the Thebans, was a sensible loss to Athens. The 
victorious Thebans surpassed even the Athenians in atrocity. 
They had promised the vanquished, on their withdrawal from 
the town, that their lives should be secure, but when the latter 
came out they were slaughtered to a man. The Athenian 
general, Demosthenes, conceived the bold design of interfer- 
ing in the disputes between Acarnania and ^Etolia, and thus 
opening for himself a way by land by which he might pass 
into Bceotia, in order to restore the balance in these parts also 
(summer of 42G b.c.). His plan, however, w T as ruined by the 
instantaneous rising of the yEtolian districts, the inhabitants 
of which still clung to a primitive simplicity of life ; and when 
the fortune of war turned once more in favor of the Atheni- 
ans, the Acarnanians thought it their best course to put an 
end to their disputes with their neighbors by a truce for a 
hundred years. At a later date the complications between 
these outlying regions bore with decisive results upon the 
great events of history ; not so, however, at this time. 

On the other hand, the Athenians succeeded in striking a 
blow in the Peloponnesus itself, which the Lakedaemonians 
felt most keenly. Almost by mere accident, in the course of 
a voyage to the western waters, the Athenians, under the 



SPHACTERIA. 233 

command, as before, of Demosthenes, whose views in this 
matter were, however, not at all approved by the other officers 
of the fleet, established themselves in the harbor of Pylos, 
which the Spartans had neglected (June, 425 b.c.) Hastily, 
but with the best success, they erected upon the rugged and 
precipitous shore a little fortification, which they proceeded 
to occupy. The pride of the Lakeda3monians was outraged 
by seeing their hated enemy in possession of a stronghold 
within their own territory. They hastened at once to expel 
the intruders, but the Athenians were sufficiently prepared 
for attack to repel the first attempt to effect a landing, in 
which the brave Spartan general Brasidas was wounded. 
Soon afterwards the main fleet of the Athenians, on their 
return from their expedition to the West, entered the harbor, 
and inflicted upon the Lakedseraonians, who had also brought 
up their fleet to secure the place, losses which almost amounted 
to a defeat. The principal incident of the struggle was, how- 
ever, yet to follow. Into the island of Sphacteria, which lay 
before the entrance of the harbor, the LakcxUemonians had 
thrown a division of hoplites, taken partly from their own 
forces, partly from those of their allies, and this detachment, 
severed from the rest by the Athenian fleet, which was now 
master of the sea, seemed irrevocably doomed to the terrible 
fate with which in these times the victor was accustomed to 
visit his vanquished enemy. 

In Lakedaemon their peril excited the greatest commotion, 
especially since many of those who were shut up in the island 
belonged to the most influential families in the land. The 
Spartans resolved to make proposals for peace at Athens, and 
an arrangement was made with the Athenian generals that, 
until these proposals were accepted or rejected, hostilities in 
the harbor of Pylos and upon the island should be suspended. 
A Lakedaemonian embassy was sent to offer the Athenians 
not merely peace and friendship, but an alliance, if they would 
but let the troops upon the island go free. It was repre- 
sented to the Athenians how unwise it was to add private and 
inexpiable enmities to the public causes of quarrel, and how 
well the opportunity might be improved in restoring peace to 
both republics and to the Greeks at large. But the leading 



234 TIIE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

demagogue explained to tliein that they had a prize in their 
hands, for the redemption of which they might exact far 
more than this, and he was not contented with that restitu- 
tion of the status quo, which was all that the offer of the 
Lakedsemonians implied. lie thought that they might be 
brought to give back once more the places which Pericles had 
resigned to them on the conclusion of the thirty years' truce. 
These places, however, had either been reinstated in their old 
independence or restored to their former possessors. The 
whole arrangement had been a compromise by which the 
Athenians had received great compensating advantages. 

The Lakediemonian ambassadors, confounded by such ex- 
travagant claims, suggested the appointment of a commission 
with which they might quietly discuss points of detail. But 
their proposal excited the most violent opposition on the part 
of Cleon, who would not hear of any negotiations except such 
as were conducted in the presence of the whole people, where, 
as he knew, the decision would depend upon himself. What- 
ever else we may think of Cleon, he must be admitted to 
have played an important part in history ; it was through him 
that, at a moment exceptionally favorable for the termination 
of a war which had ceased to have any true vaison d'etre, the 
negotiations for peace were broken off. We may distinguish 
two classes of politicians — those who have the present situa- 
tion, and the gains it immediately offers, exclusively in view ; 
and those who take account of consequences and of the dan- 
ger of provoking a general resistance which may in the end 
prove overwhelming. It was to the former class that the 
high-handed and tempestuous demagogue of Athens belonged. 
He was simply concerned to profit to the utmost by the ad- 
vantage of the moment, as the best means of attracting a ma- 
jority of voices in his favor. The notion that the war, if it 
were resumed, might have an unfortunate issue for Athens, 
never once occurred to him, and it was not in his nature to 
take account of the wider interests of the whole Grecian 
world. 

In spite of the numerous follies of which lie was guilty, he 
was favored by fortune. He was himself instrumental, little 
as he desired it, in bringing about his own nomination as gen- 



SPHACTERIA. 235 

era], with the commission to capture Sphacteria, the blockade 
of which was attended with many inconveniences. A mere 
accident, the result of carelessness, had set fire to the wood 
which covered the island and made attack difficult. This 
accident, and the preparations which Demosthenes thereupon 
made for an immediate occupation, were advantages by which 
the new general so profited that the beleaguered Spartiata?, 
attacked with much skill by a superior force, were at last 
really compelled to yield themselves prisoners (end of summer 
425 b.c). The number of the survivors amounted to about 
300, the rest having succumbed to the fierce and impetuous 
assault. Cleon brought them in triumph to Athens. The 
Spartans then renewed their proposals for peace, which, how- 
ever, led to no result, the demands of the Athenians becom- 
ing more and more extravagant. One evidence, amongst 
others, of the determination of the Demos to prosecute the war 
with might and main is found in the increase of the tax 
imposed upon the members of the league in the archonship 
of Stratocles, in which the conquest of Sphacteria took place. 
It was raised to an amount sometimes a little more, some- 
times a little less, than double the contribution hitherto ex- 
acted. 

The Athenians had, to begin with, an advantage which we 
can scarcely overestimate, in having the prisoners from Sphac- 
teria in their hands. How absolutely they were determined 
to make the utmost use of this advantage may be inferred 
from their resolve to slay their prisoners upon the first at- 
tempt of the Lakedsemonians to invade Attica anew. As the 
invasions were in fact discontinued, the Athenians were ena- 
bled, by the tribute received from the members of the league, 
to throw themselves with increasing energy into the war, and 
were repaid by conspicuous successes, principally in places 
where the democracy assisted them by rising against a domi- 
nant aristocracy. In this way they became masters of Kor- 
kyra (425 b.c.) and of Kythera (424 b.c), while elsewhere too, 
in places on the sea -coast, they obtained advantages. Yet 
they still failed in enterprises on a large scale, as in those, for 
example, against Corinth and Thebes. At Tanagra they suf- 
fered a defeat at the hands of the Boeotians (end of 424 b.c). 



286 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

A i longtl^ too, the Spartans roused themselves again to open 
hostilities; and, without direotly attaoking Attica, they took 
a course which perhaps was more effectual, by turning their 
arms against the possessions ^\' Athens in the north. 

Their design in this w:is the Bame as that which had already 
given occasion to the episode o\' Lesbos; it was io dissociate 
from the Athenians the members of their League. The at- 
tempt had failed by sea, and was now made by land. Potidsea, 
indeed, after a siege of two years' duration, had been com- 
pelled to yield, and had submitted once more to the Atheni- 
ans. These regions, however, were In a perpetual state of 
ferment. By one Beotion o\' the population, which had al- 
ready begun to revolt, the assistance of the Lakedsemonians 

had been invited; and another section, without any thought 

of insurrection, vol hoped to obtain a more independent posi- 
tion by drawing oloser to Lakedeemon. Moreover, it was 

Well known that King Terdieeas of Makodonia cherished a 

crrudffe aarainst the Athenians for the affronts he had received 
from them when lie first ascended the throne, and was anx- 
ious to obtain supporl from Lakedramon both against them 

and against other enemies on his frontier. To l.akodicmon, 

molested by the Athenians both from Pylos and from Kv- 
thera, and even imperilled by her insecure hold upon the 
helots, who were inclined to join the enemy, it was in itself a 

matter o( great concern to excite hostilities in other quarters 

against her restless and indefatigable opponents. 

Accordingly Brasidas betook himself to Thrace, not, how- 
ever, without encountering many difficulties in his march 

through Thessak. His design was to convert the allies o( 

Athens iutO allies of Sparta. 1 le purposed to abstain from 

interference in the internal disputes of the cities, and espe- 
cially to avoid favoring the aristooraoy at the expense oi the 
democraoy. The ruling powers in Lakedeemon had assured 

him most solemnly that they would leave unimpaired the 

freedom of the communities which passed over to their side. 
Accordingly Brasidas, presenting himself Bret at Acanthus, 
promised to achieve for the inhabitants, and for all the Hel- 
lenes, freedom from the yoke oi Athens; but at the same 

time, with an appeal to the gods and heroes oi the country. 



BRASIDAS. 287 

he threatened to punish any refusal by laying waste the dis- 
trict. The choice, therefore, was between a change of Bides 
and subjection by force. The inhabitants, as a body, were 

not inclined to maintain their position as a dependency o( 

Athens at the risk o( life ami limb. In Aeantlms a formal 
VOte was taken on the proposal o( Urasulas ; ami the majority 

was in favor o\' accepting it. We may, perhaps, assume that 

this result was partly due to the doubling of the tribute, 

which was then being for the first time enforced. The hos- 
tility io the Athenians assumed, in oonsequenoe o( this defec- 
tion, greater dimensions than any which they had eueounterod 
hitherto. 

Brasidas was a man of a steadfast and soldierlike tempera- 
ment, of stainless virtue and heroic courage, who possessed 

the gift of confirming the attachment o( his friends, while 

Combating the hostility o( his foes. It was a great event 
when this commander, supported by the descendants iA' the an 
Oient inhabitants in the city and neighborhood, made himself 
master of Amphipolis, the eolony which the Athenians had 
founded between the arms <A' the Strymon. Pursuing here 
the same policy as elsewhere, he promised the inhabitants 
not only security, but an independent government <A' their 

own. If any one preferred to remain faithful to Athens, ho 
was permitted to withdraw, taking all his property with him. 
This was the case not only at Amphipolis, but also at Torone, 
which shortly afterwards fell into his hands. The inhabitants 
of the Th racian towns gradually renounced the burdensome 
supremacy of Athens and became allies of Sparta. Brasidas 
distributed arms among the native inhabitants of Ohalkidike, 

and trained them in the Spartan discipline. His success was 
such that Perdiccas made common cause with him in an at- 
tack upon the lllyrians, a measure which must have given 

fresh weight to the ascendency oi' tin- Lakedssmonians of 
these regions. 

In this way the Athenians saw unexpected encroachments 
made upon them in those districts on the possession of which 

their political greatness principally depended, and of a great 

part of which they were HOW despoiled. Their losses in this 
quarter reacted upon their maritime supremacy. Once more 



238 



llll. ATIIKN1AN DKMOORACY 



Lesbos and its conoerns exerted rti Influence on tho struggle. 
\ groat number of Lesbians had fled into exile, and, collect- 
ing auxiliaries from other plaoes, established themselves at 
Vntandros, whence they hoped to be able to return to Mv 
tilone. On other islands also there wore Bigns of disaffec 
lion, li nt.'iv have been through the dread of a general revolt 
thai flu* Aili(Mii:ms removed the inhabitants of Delos, with 
thoir wives and ohildren, from that island) on tin- plea that the 
earlier lustration had not Buffioed to remove the pollution of 
whioh they had been guilty. The exiles were replaced by 
Athenian oltixens and compelled to seek refuge with the Per 
: i.in satrap on ilu* neighboring coast. The Athenians had 
not tho slightest thought of bonding before the Btorm of 
adversity whioh had burst upon them, but they considered it 
advisable to accept an armistice for a year, on the basis of uH 
A now controversy, ho we vor, arose at once upon 
tho armistice itself. Just at this time the people of Skione, a 
town situated on tho peninsula oi PallenO)had sooeded to the 
Lakodtemonians, and it was disputed whether this had taken 
place before or after the conclusion of the armistice. The 
Athenians maintained* with perfeot truth that it had hap 
ponod two days after, and they were aooordingly resolved to 

maintain thoir right aiul to rOOOVOT ( lu^ town, whilst tho 

Lakodiomonians hesitated to relinquish it to their vengeanoe. 
Till tho year expired the armistice was observed with toler- 
able fidelity , But meanwhile the general situation had so far 
changed that Pordiooas had quarrelled with Brasidas, and 
oiTored to make an alliance with the Athenians. It was upon 

this support that (Moon, whoso siuvoss at Tvlos obtained him 

the command in thoso districts, principally relied. 11^ sot 
out, accompanied by a considerable fleet and a Bne army, for 
hores of Thrace. [Io suooeedod in recovering Skione, 
whore ho i\ssertod with the utmost risgor the right whioh then 
belonged to sovereign states over their revolted subjoets, re« 
duoing the women and ohildren to Blavery, and sending all 
tho adults capable ^( bearing arms as prisoners to Athens, 



\\ *■ inn :i>K>i>t on this point without lu'silation tho iinr : 
uunl of I'luikwluu's v .\ 183) 



ni'.vni ok m;.\sin\s 



■••;•.) 



After this ho sailed to the Si rvmon, where he took Up B pOSi 
tioQ near Kion, ft plaOO which the historian Thnk \ didc >, al 

that time in command of the Soot, bad allowed to fell Into 
the hands of Brasidas after the loss of A.mphlpolis. Oleon 
intended to wail tliere for the auxiliaries of L*erdiooas and 
other neighboring ohiof tains, in order to begin the war with 
all the resources be could muster. But be had not the pa 
tienoe to remain in a position in which be might ba\ o defond 
ed himself with Buooess, his troops having no confidence in 
bis generalship, and indulging themselves In outting obsorva< 
tions at bis expense. A demagogue far more than acorn 
mander, he forgot, whilst at the head of bis troops, what 
should have been his duty in a military sense. He abandoned 
his excellent position with the objeot <>\' making himself per 
sonally acquainted with the tone and temper of the country. 
While thus engaged be was surprised by the military skill of 
Brasidas, and the presumptuous demagogue suooumbed to 

the practised Bl fatCgist.* 

Brasidas, who had marched Into the neighborhood of Am 

phipollS, so laid his plans thai, whilst, he made a direct and 

unexpected attack upon the Athenians with n body of picked 
troops, they were at the same time assailed from the town 
itself. The discomfited Athenians, whil;.! attempting to re 
treat, were utterly routed, ('icon himself was slain. Brasi 

das was wounded, and shortly afterwards died (late summer, 

122 B.o.). 

If was a most important, although not a decisive, event. 

On the Spartan side the brave warrior had fallen who had 
aohioved t ; o tnuoh that he had already exoited the jealousy ^\' 
the LakedcBmonian aristooraoy, on the Athenian the powerful 

demagogue whose voice more than any other commanded R 
bearing at Athens; and if might now be hoped that an :ir 

rangement oould be efifeoted, there being solid reasons to 
make both parties incline to peace. 
To the Lakedremonians no objeot oould be more desirable 



* [n anothor tradition, preserved in Dlodorus, Gleon is roprosontod inn 
better light than in Thukydldos, whom, nevertheless, wa prefer (<> follow 
Implicit ly, 



240 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

than a relief from the constant invasions to which their terri- 
tories were exposed from Pylos and Kythera, and which ex- 
cited the original inhabitants of the country against their 
masters, whilst their very existence would be imperilled if 
Argos, with which they had only concluded an armistice, soon 
to expire, renewed its old hostilities. On the other hand, the 
Athenians were aware that the fabric of the league, upon 
which their power was based, was shaken. They had capt- 
ured Del ion by surprise, a place admirably situated for the 
maintenance of their ascendency in Eubcea, but in a subse- 
quent battle there they had met with a reverse. The Boeo- 
tians and Corinthians had once more wrested Delion from 
them, a circumstance in itself very destructive to their pres- 
tige. The defeat at Amphipolis, one of the heaviest the 
Athenians ever suffered, must have been still more disastrous 
in its effect upon the maritime league. 

Lakedseraon had now a price to offer, in return for the 
complete evacuation of the Peloponnesus, in the restoration 
of Amphipolis. The control of Athens over her Thracian 
allies was not indeed re-established to the extent to which it 
had latterly been carried. Nothing was to be exacted be- 
yond the old tribute which Aristeides had formerly imposed. 
With this were coupled conditions securing the freedom of 
the towns in their internal affairs, notwithstanding their de- 
pendence upon Athens. A period was thus put to the hos- 
tilities on the Strymon, which had developed so rapidly and 
had taken a turn so menacing to Athens (April, 421 B.C.). 
The peace which was effected upon these terms led further 
to the restoration of the prisoners from Sphacteria, among 
whom were a hundred and twenty Spartans of pure race. 
Conditions such as Cleon had once demanded for their libera- 
tion were now out of the question. 

The peace was a compromise between Lakedamion and 
Athens. It was called for at Athens by those who had al- 
ready, in opposition to Cleon, consistently urged it, and es- 
pecially bv Nikias, the most conspicuous of the Athenian 
generals, who is said to have remarked that he wished never 
to run the least risk of suffering a reverse which might injure 
his mother country — a pardonable egotism, since it sprang 



THE PEACE OF NIKIAS. 241 

from a want of confidence in himself. In Lakediemon the 
peace was chiefly promoted by Pleistoanax, who in this was 
true to the course he had taken in his retreat from Attica. 
His conduct on that occasion was no longer resented. The 
peace came, as we see from Aristophanes, to meet a univer- 
sal need and craving. In the true spirit of the ancient come- 
dy, Aristophanes, in whom there ran a vein of Panhellenism, 
appends to the play in which he celebrates the peace an ad- 
monition to maintain it. Exactly in this, however, lay the 

difficulty. 

4. Alkibiades. 

The relations between Athens and Sparta were altogether 
of a very peculiar nature. A combination between these two 
states, one in nationality but contrasted in history and in po- 
litical constitution, was indispensable, not only on the ground 
of Panhellenic interests, for on such a combination, as in the 
time of the Persian wars, the safety of Greece depended, but 
also on more selfish grounds, for while Athens could not en- 
dure a Lakedaunonian invasion of Attica, the presence of an 
Athenian force in the Peloponnesus was equally intolerable 
to Lakedaimon. Peace was now concluded between them. 
The leading states were not, however, the whole body of the 
Hellenes, and it was at once found that the cities next to 
them in power declared against the treaty. Thebes was to 
lose Panacton, a place on her frontier the possession of which 
had cost her a long struggle, while Corinth was to part with 
Anactorion, a colony which, in conjunction with Korkyra, 
she had founded in Acarnania ; and both resented as a 
grievous injustice the treatment they were receiving at the 
hands of Sparta. In the agitation which ensued the pe- 
culiar character of the Greek states and cities was strikingly 
displayed. 

They were all independent, and jealously concerned to 
maintain their separate individuality. Each state had dis- 
played all the acuteness characteristic of the Greeks in in- 
clining the balance of its policy, both internal and external, 
to one or the other side. Their emissaries were incessantly 
passing to and fro to maintain unimpaired the interests of 
one state with another. The phenomenon of a number of 

16 



242 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

communities, small indeed, but highly organized, with no su- 
perior power to control them even from a distance, forming 
a system kept together only by the sympathies and antip- 
athies which were at work within its limits, is one which 
has never been repeated. In the ancient world, at a later 
date, the Makedonians and the Romans interfered in the af- 
fairs of the Greeks, and in the Italian republics of the Mid- 
dle Ages the Papacy and the Empire were never entirely left 
out of sight, and it is for this reason that the vicissitudes of 
these states, in themselves of little moment, excite the atten- 
tion which is still bestowed upon them. 

At the crisis which we have reached, the Corinthians took 
the initiative. The terms of the pacification being disadvan- 
tageous to their state, they represented to the other powers 
that the sole object of Athens and Sparta was to keep the 
rest of Greece under their joint control. They turned to 
Argos, a state which had become much more powerful of 
late years, and which, having adopted a democratic constitu- 
tion, was less likely than before to prolong her armistice with 
Sparta. If the old struggle should be renewed, Argos had 
willing allies in her near neighbor Mantineia, a town which 
had lately risen to great power, and in the Elcans, who had, 
like Argos, conformed to the democratic model, and had be- 
come involved with the adjacent state of Sparta in quarrels 
in which it is impossible to say which of the disputants had 
right upon their side. The budding league had this further 
and noteworthy result, that the Thebans declined to deliver 
up Panacton, without levelling its fortifications, to the Athe- 
nians. They appealed to an arrangement which had been 
made upon a former occasion, according to which Panacton 
was to be open ground, accessible to both parties. The 
Lakedsemonians in effect acceded to their representations. 
But the Athenians were astonished and exasperated. They 
thought themselves defrauded inasmuch as the frontier for- 
tress was not delivered up to them intact, according to the 
terms of the peace. The Lakedromonians, instead of com- 
pelling the Boeotians to deliver up the fortress, as the peace 
required, rather took their side. Thus, from the action of 
the smaller states impeding the complete execution of the 



ALKIBIADES AND ARGOS. 243 

terms of peace, there arose a fresh misunderstanding between 
the two leading states which had concluded it. 

Once more Nikias was sent to the Spartans to require them 
to break off their alliance with Thebes ; but his efforts were 
unsuccessful. A further consequence of this, however, was 
that the opponents of Nikias and his party gained ground in 
the Demos ; and the young Alkibiades now appeared at their 
head. He belonged to one of the principal families of the 
Eupatridae, and his mother was an Alcmseonid.* He was 
educated in the house of Pericles, whose policy he continued 
so far as it was directed towards the improvement of the 
naval power of Athens and the extension of her dominion 
without regard to Sparta. Alkibiades is said to have been 
displeased with the Spartans for having employed the inter- 
vention of Nikias in making advances to Athens, whilst the 
old terms of hospitality on which his ancestors on the father's 
side had stood with Sparta, and which he himself had re- 
newed, gave him, as he thought, a well-grounded claim to be 
intrusted with the charge of their interests. It is very pos- 
sible that a young man, conscious of his own powers, proud of 
his descent, and eager to achieve personal distinction, may 
have resented this neglect. But Athens generally shared his 
estrangement from Sparta. To unite in a common policy 
the oligarchical government of Sparta and the democracy of 
Athens was an undertaking scarcely to be compassed. On 
the other hand, there could have been no intention of renew- 
ing the war. Even Alkibiades had no such purpose, but he 
thought it well to counteract the combination between Sparta 
and Thebes, which might prove extremely dangerous should 
Argos join it, by uniting Athens with Argos once more. 

These little states form a world in which action is in every 
case followed by reaction. If Corinth had sought a union 
with Argos, in order to resist the policy of the two greater 
powers, we see Athens now, in opposition to Sparta, entering 



* Alkibiades, his grandfather, an ally of Cleistlienes, had a son Cleinias, 
who married Deinomache, the granddaughter of Cleisthenes. Cleisthenes 
was, therefore, great-grandfather of the younger Alkibiades. It will be 
remembered that he was also great-uncle of Pericles. 



244 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

into an alliance with Argos which forced Corinth to renew 
her old relations with Sparta. The democratic constitution 
of Argos was a further motive for advances on the part of 
Athens. In Argos as well as Sparta Alkibiades had personal 
friends, and after a short time a defensive league was made 
between Argos, Mantincia, and the Eleans on the one side 
and Athens on the other, by which it was covenanted that 
whoever attacked any one of the parties should be regarded 
as the enemy of all. 

The state of universal tension which this league produced 
may be seen from the fact that the Spartans were prevented 
by the Eleans, supported as they were by Mantincia, Argos, 
and now by Athens as well, from taking part in the Olympic 
games (420 B.C.), the very purpose of which was to represent 
and to maintain peaceful relations between the different tribes 
of (J recce, however warlike their attitude at other times. 
Contrary to all expectation, the Spartans bore this insult pa- 
tiently. Nor were they roused to action until the Argives, 
at the instigation of Alkibiades, made an attempt to subjugate 
Epidaurus. With the view of relieving the apprehensions 
of the Argives, a troop of helots was sent from Athens to 
disturb the Lakedffiinonian territory (winter of 419-8 B.C.). 
Even then the Spartans carefully abstained from any hostility 
against Athens, and made it their principal aim either to 
overpower Argos or gain her to their side. With this in- 
tention King Agis took the iield. He did in fact succeed, 
with the assistance of a party in Argos with whom he kept 
up an understanding, in concluding an armistice for four 
months (summer of 418 B.C.), which appeared certain to lead 
to a permanent peace. 

At this crisis, however, Alkibiades once more arrived at 
ArgOS. l>y his influence the arrangement was pronounced 
invalid, and Argos and her allies, including the Athenians, 
attacked the Lakediemonians, in accordance with the terms 
of the treaty. They captured Orchomenus, and liberated the 
hostages of the conquered towns, who had been transported 
thither by the Lakediomonians ; then they pushed on against 
Tegeia, which had hitherto been the most faithful of the allies 
of Sparta. In this peril, menaced by an overwhelming force 



DESTRUCTION OF MELOS. 245 

in the heart of the Peloponnesus, the Lakedaraoniana bestirred 
themselves with all their old energy. As chance willed it, 
in the course of a desultory march, when they had no ex- 
pectation of a battle, they encountered their enemies, who 
had taken up a good position at Mantineia (August, 418 B.C.). 
But their old discipline, which Spartan training and Spartan 
modes of life had maintained in all its vigor, asserted itself 
with conspicuous success, and their king Agis was enabled 
once more to clear himself from the censure under which he 
lay on account of his retreat some years before. The battle 
resulted in favor of the Lakedseraoniana, and, though not im- 
mediately, had shortly afterwards the effect of bringing the 
party which favored their cause once more into the ascendant 
at Argos. Thereupon the Argivcs, together with the Eleans 
and Mantineians, concluded a league with the Spartans, the 
principal aim of which was to exclude the Athenians forever 
from the Peloponnesus (winter of 418-7 B.O.). It was round 
this question that the mutual opposition of Athens and Sparta 
mainly centred. The Lakeda3monians would not endure the 
presence of any Athenians in the Peloponnesus, while the 
Athenians refused to give up the ties which they had formed 
within that region. Once more Alkibiadcs betook himself to 
Argos, and never were his talents as an agitator more brill- 
iantly demonstrated. He brought about the overthrow of 
the oligarchy which had been established by Spartan influ- 
ence, and all the principal supporters of this party were ban- 
ished and placed under Athenian supervision. The Argivcs 
displayed the utmost zeal in attaching themselves to Athens, 
and at the instance of Alkibiadcs they built long walls, as 
Patrsa had done a short time before, in order that their mari- 
time connection with Athens might not be interrupted. 

In spite of the conflict of interests which the political situa- 
tion so strikingly reveals, no open breach between Sparta and 
Athens immediately ensued. Indeed, the Lakeda3mouians ac- 
quiesced when the little island of Mclos, one of their own 
colonies, was overpowered and punished with the most cruel 
severity by the Athenians, whose league it had refused to 
join (winter of 415-4 b.c.). The revenge which Cleon had 
proposed to take upon Mytilene was here mercilessly put into 



24G THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

execution ; the men were put to death, the women and chil- 
dren carried away as slaves. It is related of Alkibiades that 
although he had been chiefly instrumental in carrying this 
decree, he, nevertheless, reserved to himself a female captive 
who had attracted his admiration, and by whom a son was 
born to him, whom he brought up in his own house. It is 
illustrative of the state of opinion at this time that his con- 
duct, instead of being regarded as a matter of reproach, was 
on the contrary commended as a trait of humanity. 

Alkibiades now figured as the principal personage at 
Athens, taking the same rank as Kimon before him, although 
belonging to the opposite party. There was an element of 
truth in his assertion that in the splendid display which he 
made with his four-horse chariots at Olympia, where he won 
with them the first, second, and third prizes, he had only the 
glory of his native city in view, for it was, indeed, one way of 
showing Greece that Athens still possessed rich and powerful 
citizens. He was liberal in his expenditure for the public 
service and for the amusement of the people. But there was 
something in his whole character and conduct which tran- 
scended the republican standard and the traditions of citizen 
life. There was about him something of the prince, although 
he achieved influence through the democracy alone and by 
courting popularity. His brilliant exterior dazzled but did 
not offend. In his personal beauty, in his way of speaking, 
and even in his defective pronunciation, there was something 
which seemed to plead in his favor. In his youth he was told 
that he might attain to greater authority even than Pericles in 
public affairs. On the other hand, Socrates called his atten- 
tion to his imperfections. Alkibiades once remarked that 
when he heard Pericles speak he was left with the impression 
that Pericles had spoken well. " But," he continued, " when 
I listen to the words of this Marsyas " — it was thus he desig- 
nated Socrates — " my heart leaps within me, and I shed tears, 
and he brings me to such a pass that I feel I can hardly en- 
dure the life I am leading." The mutual attraction between 
older men and those in early manhood, which is justly re- 
garded as one of the most objectionable features in Greek 
life, was exalted in the relations between Socrates and Alki- 



CHARACTER OF ALKIBIADES. 2A7 

biades above the vulgar level, and acquired an educational, 
and we might almost say a political and military, value. It 
was only by virtue of his mental superiority and moral influ- 
ence that Socrates brought Alkibiades to return his affection, 
mutual proofs of which were given in the presence of the 
enemy, when Socrates saved Alkibiades after he had fallen 
exhausted at Potidaea, and was saved by him in turn in the 
retreat from Delion. 

The natural propensities of Alkibiades, in spite of this 
friendship, held their course unchecked. His ambitious love 
of display, while it fascinated the multitude, which, says Aris- 
tophanes, loved him and hated him, but still could not live 
without him, excited the apprehensions of quiet and serious- 
minded men, who foreboded nothing but mischief from his 
proceedings. " Go on," said the misanthrope Timon, seeing 
him in the full enjoyment of popularity : "you will bring all 
these folks to ruin." In spite of his Socratic discipline Alki- 
biades remained untamed and untrustworthy. That he enter- 
tained great designs from the first — that, for example, of 
making himself despotic or bringing Italy and Africa under 
the yoke of Athens— is more than we can say of him without 
some reservation. But he certainly aimed at making himself 
and his country great. He fixed his entire attention on the 
political conditions of the moment, and developed their ten- 
dencies with this end in view. It is easy to understand why 
he took the opposite side to Nikias. The insecurity of the 
situation in which Athens was placed, so long as the terms of 
peace were not carried out in their integrity, enabled him to 
set himself at the head of the people, and, young as he still 
was, to take the guidance of affairs into his own hands. The 
democracy needed a leader. Such a leader they found in 
Alkibiades, but he was the most dangerous they could have 
chosen. He could already point to great successes, especially 
to the alliance with Argos, which he had persuaded to oppose 
the Lakedsemonians in the Peloponnesus. This alliance, 
moreover, associated together democratic constitutions, and 
thus gave him a double authority in his character as a leader 
of the people. The combination of these tendencies did not, 
however, imply a breach with Sparta, for the notion of mak- 



248 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

ing Sparta herself democratic could never have been enter- 
tained. But the course upon which Athens had now entered 
tended to restrict the influence of Sparta within the small- 
est possible compass, and to leave the field open to the Athe- 
nians. 

These considerations prepare us for the appearance upon 
the political horizon of an enterprise on the part of Athens 
for the subjection of Sicily. This enterprise may be re- 
garded from one point of view as an episode in universal 
history, inasmuch as it affected, in the widest sense, the rela- 
tions between various states and the modes of thought by 
which those relations were determined. It is an old observa- 
tion that the relations between the Greek settlements in 
Sicily and the Phoenician settlements founded by Carthage 
were in a manner connected with the general opposition be- 
tween East and West. The story is well known that the vic- 
tory at Salami's coincided with a corresponding success won 
by the Sicilian Greeks over the Carthaginians at Himera. 
This, indeed, is only a legend, traceable to the feeling that 
some such connection did in fact exist, but similar incidents 
really occurred. The Greeks in Sicily had been favored with 
time to develop themselves peacefully, until they became 
able to hold their own against the Carthaginians in the island 
and to restrict them to a few places upon the coast. Yet 
there is no trace of any design on the part of Alkibiades and 
Athens to set themselves at the head of the Sicilian Greeks 
against the Carthaginians, although Alkibiades included Libya 
in his calculations. Their views, so far as they took shape in 
action, were confined to the internal disputes which agitated 
the Greek world. It was the Dorian settlements, whose in- 
habitants were closely connected with the Lakedsemonians, 
which were in the ascendant in Sicily. These were constant- 
ly at feud with the Ionian settlements, with which the Athe- 
nians were connected by a similar tie. To assist the latter 
was no departure from the direct course of Athenian policy. 

It was a design which Pericles had already entertained. 
Several years before this time, when the Leontines, who were 
of Ionian descent, were hard pressed by Syracuse, the princi- 
pal Dorian colony, various attempts were made to give them 



THE SICILIAN EXPEDITION. 249 

assistance, the only effect of which, however, was to strengthen 
the power of Syracuse. Egesta also, involved in a quarrel on 
the subject of territorial rights with the neighboring city of 
Selinus, was put in jeopardy by Syracuse, which came to the 
assistance of the latter. There was no tribal relationship to 
give Athens a plea for making the cause of Egesta her own, 
for the latter city belonged to a colony reputed to be of 
Trojan origin, and was even on good terms with the Cartha- 
ginians. But Egesta insisted with success upon another mo- 
tive — namely, the constantly increasing power of Syracuse, 
which, by the subjection both of the Leontines and the people 
of Egesta, would become absolutely supreme in Sicily, to the 
detriment of the naval power of Athens and of her kinsmen 
of the Ionian stock. We recognize here the special character 
of the hostilities between Greek and Greek, as depending 
upon the antagonism of the races, but this opposition had 
never had consequences so extensive as those which were 
now in prospect. 

In Athens the advocates of peace, and especially Nikias, 
were absolutely opposed to the notion of assisting Egesta. 
The people of that city had indeed represented that Syracuse 
would always side with Sparta, but it seemed dangerous by 
an attack upon Syracuse to provoke open hostilities with the 
latter. To judge from the experience of the last few years, a 
war with Sparta offered little prospect of success, while it in- 
volved the greatest hazards, especially since all the other en- 
emies of Athens would be roused to action at the same time. 
Alkibiades, as might be expected, combated these views. He 
was much assisted in his efforts by the alliance with Argos, 
which he had himself effected. Athens did not, as hitherto, 
stand single-handed, but had formed connections, through 
which the exclusive power of Sparta in the Peloponnesus was 
very greatly impaired. Alkibiades exerted all the power im- 
parted both by his personal influence and his prestige. The 
noble speech which Thukydides puts in his mouth cannot be 
regarded as an exact report of what he said, but the principles 
therein expressed are of the greatest importance as illustrat- 
ing the political views of the period. At the time of the 
subjugation of Melos, a proceeding not to be justified on any 



250 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

other ground, the Athenians had maintained the maxim that 
the inferior power must always give way to the greater; it 
was, they affirmed, proved by experience that this was the will 
of the gods, to whom Melos vainly appealed. Their mean- 
ing was that territorial independence must inevitably, in the 
course of events, through which the divine will is displayed, 
yield to the sovereignty of a real power, embracing all its 
neighbors within the sphere of its influence. The feeling 
that might implies right was extended by Alkibiades to the 
conclusion that a constantly progressive power, such as that of 
Athens, need not, when its assistance is invoked, be scrupu- 
lously careful to consider whether justice is on the side of the 
suppliants, or even whether it may expect, in case of emer- 
gency, to receive support from them in turn, but cannot avoid 
giving assistance. Everything in Athens depended, he said, 
upon the development of her naval power ; no limit could be 
fixed at which this was to be arrested, for power excited a 
natural jealousy ; it was always lawful to anticipate rather than 
to await attack, and necessary to take one side or the other. 

The leading idea in this argument is simply that power, 
once established, must go on growing, because it cannot ex- 
actly estimate the hostile forces by which it may be opposed. 
This was the principle, as is well known, upon which Napo- 
leon I. justified his wars; it was the cause of his ruin. It 
was the principle also of the Romans, who succeeded in car- 
rying it out, and based their world-wide empire upon it. We 
see it here for the first time at Athens, dawning upon the 
mind of a leading statesman; it was the issue towards which 
the march of Athens, in the development of her power, was 
tending. Democracy, in order to establish itself, had to de- 
prive the old aristocracy of some of the prerogatives which it 
had formerly possessed. By the same process the individual 
independence of the members of the Delian league had been 
gradually broken down. Sparta was the only support to 
which malcontents of either class could turn. Alkibiades 
aimed chiefly at securing the dominion over all Hellas, to 
which Athens had already, in his view, a claim, by a victory 
over Syracuse: he thought little of the hostility of Sparta, 
which he accepted as an inevitable consequence. 



THE SICILIAN EXPEDITION. 251 

It is obvious that these views must have encountered op- 
position, for, though it might be true that they had been put 
in practice already, no one had as yet openly professed them. 
The older men were more inclined towards Nikias, whilst the 
younger, eager for action, ranged themselves upon the side of 
Alkibiades. Alkibiades, however, insisted that both classes 
were essential to the composition of the state, and that its 
power depended upon their united action. His counsels pre- 
vailed, and the preparations were undertaken on a magnifi- 
cent scale. It was well known that the enemy to be assailed 
was expert in naval warfare. To conquer him a fleet of a 
hundred triremes was prepared. The universal emulation 
extended to the material equipment. But especial pains were 
taken with the requisite exercises, especially in trials of speed 
in rowing. Sixty of the vessels were purely ships of war; 
forty were at the same time intended to serve as transports. 
Thirty-four ships were added by the members of the league, 
so that complete control of the sea was assured beyond a 
doubt. The Athenians were, however, determined to be pre- 
pared at all points for their enterprise, remembering that 
they would have to fight on shore as well as at sea. The 
number of hoplites embarked exceeded 5000, of whom 1500 
were Athenian citizens and furnished their own equipment; 
700 more were Athenian citizens armed at the public ex- 
pense ; the rest were allies, among whom the contingents of 
Argos and Mantineia occupied a prominent place. All were 
hopeful of bringing the impending war to a successful issue, 
and of gaining from it glory and personal advantage. They 
had not neglected to provide against the attacks of cavalry, to 
which they would be exposed on their landing in Sicily. 
They lost no time in strengthening their forces with archers 
and slingers, principally from Crete. Above all, they reck- 
oned on the support of the Ionian settlements in Sicily, and 
on plentiful contributions from Egesta. 

It was an enterprise to which the past history of Greece 
afforded no parallel. It called forth all the energies of 
the commonwealth of Athens and of her allies; and the 
Athenian people, always confident, ambitious, and apt to bo 
tempted by wide projects, set the greatest hopes upon it. 



252 TIIE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

Nor can it be maintained that these hopes were unfounded, 
in view of the general situation at the time. The Carthagin- 
ians had already once been checked, and were now engrossed 
in other enterprises ; amongst the Greeks no force could be 
raised by sea and land which could at all approach the Athe- 
nian expedition in magnitude, whilst the Persians had their 
hands tied by the Peace of Kimon. Thukydides makes Al- 
kibiades expressly say that he had set his eye upon Italy and 
Libya, but always with the design of falling upon Pelopon- 
nesus with the power thence derived, as well as with barbarian, 
especially Iberian, auxiliaries, and with fresh triremes built of 
materials which Italy was to furnish. In this way, he ex- 
plained, he had hoped to make himself master of the whole 
Hellenic world. This would have been, indeed, to take up a 
magnificent position in the midst of the opposing forces of 
the universe. 

Yet we may question at the very outset whether Athens 
was really capable, not only of commencing, but carrying to 
a successful issue, a struggle of this description. Even if such 
hopes were not unjustifiable in view of the opposing forces 
which the enterprise was destined to call into action, there is 
another reason which claims consideration. For the exten- 
sion of a power which has but itself to depend upon, whilst 
making the whole world its antagonist, unity in the end and 
aims proposed is essential, whether it be the power of a prince 
who executes plans which he has himself framed, or of a com- 
monwealth where a policy is firmly seized and as firmly main- 
tained. But at the very outset it was manifest that Athens 
was not such a commonwealth. Alkibiades, who had been 
chiefly instrumental in bringing the enterprise about, was 
nevertheless very far from holding a really commanding po- 
sition, or even from being sure of the more limited authority 
which he actually possessed. One night, in the midst of the 
preparations for the departure of the fleet, the marble busts of 
Hermes which stood in front of the citizens' houses were 
mutilated. This outrage threw the city into a ferment such 
as had never before been experienced. The act was construed 
into an attack upon religion and upon the constitution. It 
was against Alkibiades that the popular ill-humor was di- 



MUTILATION OF THE HERIVLE. 253 

rected. Like Pericles, he was generally out of sympathy with 
the prevalent religion, and inclined rather to philosophic opin- 
ions ; he had, indeed, gone so far as to parody at a nocturnal 
debauch religious rites which were regarded by the multitude 
with reverential awe. It is certain that he had nothing to do 
with the disorderly act in question, but by the accusations 
which were brought against him in the inquiry to which it 
gave occasion he felt his position shaken and imperilled. His 
personal conduct was so defiant of established rules and do- 
mestic morality that he was believed capable of anything. 

Alkibiades was convinced that it would be impossible for 
him to sail unless the matter were legally decided and his own 
acquittal pronounced. It would be better, he said, that he 
should be put to death at once than that he should proceed 
upon an undertaking of such magnitude, and fraught with 
such critical issues to the state, while burdened with a sus- 
picion of this kind. It is true that the superstitious multi- 
tude was excited against him, but it is equally undeniable 
that his political antagonists seized this as a favorable oppor- 
tunity to shake his authority. A little reflection, however, 
sufficed to convince them that on the very eve of an enter- 
prise upon which all eyes were directed, and in the presence 
of so many armed citizens enlisted for the campaign, they 
could effect nothing against the general, who, although asso- 
ciated with two other commanders, Nikias and Lamachus, 
had the principal conduct of the undertaking. They even 
wished the expedition to Sicily to start at once, as they would 
then be in a position to proceed to further machinations un- 
disturbed. Without entering into the case itself the people 
came to a formal resolution that the fleet should set sail with- 
out delay.* Alkibiades was thus relieved from the immedi- 

* I depart here from the usual view that the trial was postponed till 
the return of Alkibiades in consequence of a formal determination; for, 
in the first place, this would have been the exact opposite of the course 
which Alkibiades had desired, and it would, in the case of one so pow- 
erful, have brought about a reaction in his favor. But, besides this, how 
could the party of his opponents have had the effrontery, in the face of 
such a decision, to proceed against him ? In Thukydidcs no such state- 
ment is made ; the proposals of certain orators are by no means repre- 



254 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

ate danger of legal proceedings, but, on the other hand, his 
opponents did not renounce their intention of bringing fresh 
charges against him in his absence. Under such circum- 
stances it was scarcely to be expected that an undertaking 
should succeed in which everything depended upon the un- 
broken spirit of its commander-in-chief. 

There is one further question which we cannot leave unin- 
vestigated — the question to what precise point the aims of 
Athens were directed ; for it is impossible that she could have 
rested content with the general but very vague idea of a con- 
quest of Sicily. Diodorus Siculus, who for this chapter of 
history supplies us with several valuable details in amplifica- 
tion of the narrative of Thukydides, states that in a confer- 
ence between the generals elect and the leading members 
of the Council of Five Hundred, which took place on the day 
before the departure of the fleet, it was resolved to prosecute 
the war against Syracuse and Selinus to the utter destruction 
of those communities. Since it was against them that the as- 
sistance of Athens had been invoked by the people of Egesta 
and Leontini, it was purposed to render that assistance with- 
out let or stint. The other Sicilian republics were to be left 
unhurt, but to be forced to enter into an alliance. The league 
between Athens and a number of subject allies, which had 
been maintained in the East against the Persians, was now to 
be extended to the "West as a check upon the Carthaginians, 
an arrangement which would have given Athens a command- 
ing position over the greater part of the Mediterranean as 
well as of Greece itself. The mass of the people can scarcely 
have had much knowledge of these intentions; their minds 



sented as acquiesced in by the people (vi. 29). His words are, ido%e 
irksiv rbv 'A\KtPuidt)v. Plutarch, -whose account is really only an expan- 
sion of that of Thukydides, perhaps suggests something of the kind, but 
nowhere actually says as much (Alcibiades, c. 19). Andokides has, in- 
deed, so stated the matter, but it has been sufficiently demonstrated that 
his statements are not entirely to be depended on. To me the only cer- 
tain fact seems to be that in the vote of the people which was to pro- 
nounce upon the accusation they proceeded to the order of the day. 
This, however, was only the question of the departure of the fleet. Every- 
thing else remained undecided. 



THE ATHENIANS AT CATANA. 255 

were occupied simply by the vastness of the enterprise and 
by the hopes and fears which were linked with it. Every 
one knows the description of the state of feeling at Athens 
which is given by Thukydides. lie tells us further that on 
the departure of the fleet the customary prayers and libations 
were offered upon the ships at the voice of the herald. Dio- 
dorus adds that the shore of the harbor was covered with 
censers and consecrated goblets, and that the people on their 
part made libations; he represents, however, that this was 
not the unanimous act of all, but of those only whose proper 
function it was to minister in religious worship. 

Such were the circumstances under which the fleet put to 
sea, in the archonship of Chabrias, about midsummer, b.c. 415. 
On arriving at the shores of Italy, towards which they first 
steered, they discovered that they had not the slightest hope 
of obtaining from Egesta the supplies of money which they 
had expected. Nikias therefore proposed that they should 
limit themselves to fulfilling the obligations which they had 
undertaken, by obtaining for the people of Egesta, in what- 
ever way they could, the rights they claimed, and should then 
return home, refraining from attempts which would involve 
the state in incalculable expense and endanger their great 
armada. This, however, would have been to stultify the 
whole proceeding; and Alkibiades urged that it would be 
better to obtain a firm footing upon the island, gain over 
some allies, and, having laid this foundation, begin hostilities 
against Syracuse. His view prevailed, and, in conformity 
with that right of the stronger which Athens had proclaimed, 
they got possession, not without some double-dealing, of the 
city of Catana, in the harbor of which the Athenian fleet then 
found shelter. Of the colonies connected by race with Ath- 
ens, Naxos came to her side, and it would perhaps havo 
needed only a single success to bring about a great revolution 
in Sicily.* 

* The well-informed authority whom Diodorus follows says expressly 
that the cities of the Sikeli, though leaning for their own part towards 
the Syracusans, would have looked on quite quietly and awaited the 
issue of the struggle (xiii. 4) : eri rwv ZiKtXwv 7ro\£i£ ry fiiv evi>oi(f Trpog Zu- 
paKooiovQ ipptirov, o/xa>£ 5' iv r/<Ti>X'£ [tzvovaai to avufiiiGontvov tKapa^oKovv. 



250 TIIE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

But at the very moment when the enterprise was thus 
fairly begun in accordance with the projects of Alkibiades, 
the Salaminian trireme appeared in the harbor of Catana to 
recall him. His antagonists, who, at the time when Alki- 
biades carried the resolution in favor of the expedition, had 
bound themselves to counteract the execution of his scheme, 
and to put a period to the dangerous growth of his influence, 
had lately renewed their attacks. It was a son of Kimon 
who accused him of having derided Demeter and Persephone, 
the goddesses of Eleusis, and in his absence procured a reso- 
lution calling him to account for having turned the Eleusin- 
ian mysteries into ridicule.* So much importance was still 
attached at Athens to his connection with the Argives and 
the Mantineians, who continued to be attached to him, that 
he was not at once put under arrest, but was allowed a cer- 
tain degree of freedom in the return voyage to Athens, in 
the course of which the vessels touched at the shores of Italy. 
At Thurii, however, Alkibiades, with some others who were 
implicated in the same accusation, fearing that on his arrival 
at Athens he would be condemned to death, quitted the ship 
— it was his own — on which he was sailing, and succeeded in 
making good his escape. He was once asked if that was all 
the trust he placed in his native country ; his answer was 
that in a danger which threatened his life he would not trust 
even his own mother, who might easily make a mistake be- 
tween a black ball and a white one. Yet unquestionably he 
had made up his mind to prove to his native city, by all the 
means at his command, not merely that he was still alive, but 
that she could do nothing without him, and even from a dis- 
tance to chastise the enemies who had banished him from 
home and country. Animated by the proudest consciousness 
of his own worth, he felt himself no longer a citizen of the 
state to which he belonged, and severed without hesitation 
every tie, to enter upon a course in which he obeyed the guid- 
ance of his own star alone. 



* According to Thukydides, the resolution to recall Alkibiades was 
formed with the express intention of destroying him (vi. 01, j3ov\6/isvoi 

avruv is Kpiviv ayayuvrei; airoKTEivai). 



SIEGE OF SYRACUSE. 257 

Something resembling this had already been seen in the 
instance of Themistoclcs. But to Thcmistocles his position 
at Athens was all in all, and, at the crisis when he was ex- 
pected to light against his native land, his death, probably 
self-determined, put him beyond the reach of this necessity. 
Alkibiades, on the contrary, contemplated from the outset an 
attack upon Athens, lie declared that the Lakedffimonians 
were nut such deadly enemies to Athens as the party in his 
native city which had expelled him, Alkibiades, the people's 
best friend. It would even have displeased him had Athens, 
without his help, obtained supremacy over Greece, and the 
commanding position in the world which he had desired to 
procure for her, for that position would then have been the 
portion of his antagonists. These it was his principal aim to 
crush, and he even thought it better to put the Spartans in 
possession of a supremacy which they would wield with mod- 
eration, than to let it fall into the hands of a government so 
unjust as that of Athens. The development of the naval 
power of Athens to its furthest possible extent, that idea 
which had hitherto, under all her leaders, whatever their 
party, given life and aim to the energies of Athens, on the 
lines initiated by Thomistocles, was abandoned by the very 
man who had been its most vigorous advocate and champion. 

This historian of the epoch was told that Alkibiades, who 
repaired under a safe-conduct to Sparta, made two suggestions 
of a nature disastrous to Athens. The- first was to establish 
in the district of Attica a fortified place, from which they 
might harass the country without intermission, and so impair 
the inland resources of Athens as to render illusory tho ob- 
jects for which her long walls were built. Tho second was 
to send the Syracusans considerable assistance, or at least an 
experienced general to conduct their defence. In the nature 
of things, there is no reason why w T o should not assume that 
the Spartan Ephors, men of intelligence and observation, 
could have arrived without assistance at notions so obvious as 
these ; but we have followed the authority of the conscien- 
tious and well-informed historian who attributes these plans 
to the inspiration of Alkibiades ; and no one would attempt 
to deny that ho contributed towards their adoption. The 

17 



o;,S THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

mission of a skilful leader to Syracuse was in particular a 
matter o( urgent necessity. Nikias had meanwhile opened 
and prosecuted the war against Syracuse with success, though 
the town was stoutly defended by Hermocrates; his hoplites 

had achieved some advantages by land and taken possession 
of the heights which commanded the fortifications of Syra- 
cuse, whilst the fleet out off all communication with Greece. 
Turbulent movements began to make their appearance in the 
city, and it appeal's that an accommodation was contemplated, 
by which Syracuse would have secured her existence on con- 
dition o( acknowledging the sovereignty o( Athens. 

This was the very danger oi' which Alkibiades warned the 
Spartans, and he advised them above all things to prevent 
any arrangement between Athens and Syracuse. Accord- 
ingly a Corinthian vessel, succeeding in spite of the Athenian 
fleet in reaching Syracuse, brought the news that Lakedeemon, 
the ancient capital of the Dorian race, would not abandon 
them, but would shortly Bend them an experienced general. 
The news was decisive oi the war. The Syracusans recovered 
confidence in their cause, and soon afterwards the Spartan 
Gylippus appeared to take in hand the defence (late summer, 
I 1 I B.C.). The sense of relationship combined with the great 
interest at stake to secure exact obedience to his orders, and 
the defence was soon transformed into an attack upon the 
besiegers, in which the latter found their situation at even- 
step more disadvantageous. At the same time a Corinthian 
Bquadron suoceeded in making its way into the harbor o( 
Syracuse. The Athenians had designed not only to over- 
power Syracuse, but to make it a position from which they 
mighl become masters o\' Peloponnesus ; it was therefore in 

the defenoe o\' Syracuse that all the forces i^( Peloponnesus 
were now combined. A considerable reinforcement which 
arrived from Athens was unable to restore the balance in 
favor of the Athenians, and they determined to seek safety in 
a hasty retreat whilst retreat was still possible. 

The cause which prevented them was a very noteworthy 
One. It was no other than the ancient superstition which 
Pericles and the philosophers had combated, one closely con- 
nected with those rites the presumptuous mockery o{ which 



RUIN OF THE SYRACUSAN EXPEDITION. 359 

had occasioned the recall of Alkibiades. It is, indeed, strange 
to see on the one hand the principle of might pursued, as at 
Melos, to its extreraest consequences, just as though there 
wore no protecting deities to take up the cause of the weak, 
and jet, on the other hand, this blind adherence to the old be- 
lief in the gods. When all was ready for their departure, 
the occurrence of an eclipse of the moon (August 27, 413 
b.c.) threw the troops and their leader, Nikias, into such a 
state of terror that they gave up the retreat, and they pur- 
posed, according to the directions of the soothsayers, to wait 
thrice nine days before coming to a decision. This delay 
was their destruction. The proceedings connected with the 
mutilation of the Hermes had checked their enterprise, after 
it had been undertaken past recall. And now the occurrence 
of an eclipse of the moon prevented the deliverance of the 
fleet when it was still possible to effect it. The Athenians 
were, indeed, even now more numerous than their enemies in 
the harbor, but the limited space deprived them of the su- 
periority which they derived in naval actions from greater 
rapidity of movement. Their antagonists had improved 
their triremes by additions which made them superior to the 
Athenian vessels in a conflict of ship against ship. In the 
first serious encounter the Athenian fleet, the mainstay of the 
power of the republic, was annihilated. A like destruction 
next overtook the land forces. The survivors of those who 
had hoped to conquer the world were condemned to labor in 
the stone quarries. The two commanders-in-chief by land 
and sea were put to death by the Syracusans. 

Whilst the design of extending the power of Athens tow- 
ards the West was thus completely shipwrecked, the course 
of events brought about a blow still more disastrous to her 
power in the other direction, in which it had been consoli- 
dated by Miltiades and Kimon. Her Ionian allies now roused 
themselves to the endeavor to relieve themselves of the op- 
pressive yoke which the Athenians had imposed upon them. 
And here we remark that the event of the struggle at Syra- 
cuse exercised an important influence upon the general situa- 
tion in its widest extent. In Sicily the Carthaginians, who 
had enlisted a portion of the Athenian mercenaries, men 



2G0 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

whose ideas were limited to the payment they could get for 
military service, obtained a preponderance which at length, 
although only gradually, made itself felt. In Asia Minor the 
action taken by the allies of Athens excited the ambition of 
Tissaphernes, the satrap of Sardis. Here once more we find 
the influence of Alkibiades at work. It was through his in- 
tervention that Lakedsemon entered into a league with the 
Persians, directed against the maritime power of Athens. 
That power still existed in the YEgean Sea and on the coasts 
of Ionia, but had already become impaired. Even Chios re- 
linquished her usual caution and fell away from her. These 
events took place in the summer of 414 b.c. In order com- 
pletely to crush the maritime authority of the Athenians, the 
Persians guaranteed to the Lakedcemonians subsidies which 
enabled them to send a considerable fleet to sea. 

The centre of universal interest was thus transferred to an- 
other point, and the great question, to which all others were 
secondary, was whether the power of Athens would be main- 
tained or not. Every other consideration, compared with 
this, had to withdraw into the background. The novel spec- 
tacle was presented of the Greeks assisting the Great King to 
subdue his revolted nobles,* in return for his promise to send 
Phoenician ships to the help of the Peloponnesians, combined 
against Athens. The treaties which had been made with the 
Persians hitherto had been only of a transitory nature, and 
even in the districts which had nominally remained under 
Persian control the power of the Athenians had been strong 
enough to collect the tributes established in their league. In 
the events which were now taking place we see a complete 
reversal of that condition of things which had resulted a 
generation earlier in the arrangement called the Peace of 
Kimon. The main condition of this compact was the com- 
plete exclusion of the Persians from the affairs of Greece by 
sea as well as by land, in return for which the Athenians had 
pledged themselves to leave the Persian empire unmolested. 

* Amorgcs, the natural son of Pissuthnes, satrap of Lydia, 'who had 
made an alliance with the oligarchs at Samos in the year 440 (Thuk. 
viii. 28). 



ALLIANCE BETWEEN SPARTA AND PERSIA. 261 

Now, however, the latter — and that too by the instrumentality 
of the great leader of Athens in alliance with the Lakedte- 
raonians — was relieved of that obligation, and the reappear- 
ance of Phoenician ships in the Archipelago approved. The 
Lakedaemonians conceded that the whole region which be- 
longed to the king, whether then or formerly, was to remain 
in its allegiance or return to it.* They thus virtually gave 
up the claim of the maritime districts to be emancipated from 
the Persian dominion, and in this they found considerable 
support in the islands, which had long been weary of the 
Athenian rule. 

The way in which the Athenians, even in this difficult 
situation, still maintained their ground, has always excited 
admiration. They appropriated the thousand talents which 
were reserved in the citadel for emergencies of this kind. 
The idea of a state treasury as conceived by Pericles thus 
proved most salutary. The Athenians, moreover, had still 
the Argives upon their side. They succeeded once more in 
effecting a landing upon the shores of Asia Minor, and in 
overcoming the revolted city of Miletus, as well as the Lake- 
dsemonians who had come to its assistance (end of summer, 
412 b.c.). We remark here in general that the tribal relations, 
that legacy of a remote past the memory of which had been 
so often recalled in more recent times, were in these trans- 
actions completely disregarded. In spite of their Ionian ori- 
gin the Milesians went over to the Lakedsemonians, while the 
Argives, who were Dorians, fought on the side of the Athe- 
nians. Kept together by no common sentiment, the unity 
of Hellas broke up into groups united by ephemeral alli- 
ances. 

In the battle of which we have just spoken Ionians, as rep- 
resented by the Milesians, maintained their ground against 
Dorians, as represented by the Argives, whilst on the other 
hand the allies of Miletus, the Lakedaemonians, were defeated 

* In the first treaty concluded between the Lakedaemonians and the 
Persians the words are, oiroai^v x^pav Kai iroXeig fiamXevg f "xa, Kai ol irartpeg 
ol fiamXeuig el X ov, fiaaiXeiog ioru (Thuk. viii. 18) ; in the third, efl'ected in 
the winter 411-ilO (Thuk. viii. 57), x & P av t,)v paotKkug, ua n rfe 'Aaiag tarl, 
fiamXsug tivai Kai 7repi Tqg X"P a Q "?£ iavrov /3ovXtvtTu> fiamXtvg 'oTrwg t3ovXtrai. 



2(32 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

by the Athenians, Ionians of ancient descent. The latter ad- 
vantage decided the battle. The Athenians determined to 
besiege Miletus, by the conquest of which they hoped once 
more to become masters of the whole sea-coast. Alkibiades 
was on the spot, and is said to have advised the Spartan fleet, 
which arrived at this juncture, and which now included some 
Sicilian triremes, twenty-one from Syracuse and two from 
Selinus, not to look on quietly whilst Miletus was reduced, 
but to attack the Athenian fleet, then lying at anchor before 
the town, without delay. The Athenians, however, did not 
feel themselves strong enough to resist so formidable a com- 
bination. It was the same as that to which they had suc- 
cumbed in the harbor of Syracuse. Their principal antago- 
nist at Syracuse, Hermocrates, was in this very fleet, and there 
was besides every probability that the Persians would attack 
them by land. Phrynichus, the Athenian admiral, was un- 
willing to bring upon himself the fate of Nikias and Demos- 
thenes. He made a timely retreat to Samos, and the siege of 
Miletus was raised. The Peloponnesians had gained, not, in- 
deed, an actual victory, but still a decided advantage. The 
revolt already commenced could now no longer be repressed. 
On the contrary, it spread both towards the north and the 
south, lthodes, Sestos, and Abydos fell away, and Lesbos 
showed an inclination to follow their example. The Delian 
League, on which the greatness of Athens depended, was fall- 
ing to pieces. Even in Euboea an insurrection broke out. 

The position of Alkibiades in the midst of this conflict, 
which he had himself brought about, is a peculiar one. It 
suggests a general observation, which we may be permitted 
to make in this place. All the states of antiquity were held 
together and animated by the feeling of a common bond be- 
tween citizen and citizen ; sovereignty was regarded as resid- 
ing in the community as a whole, and no one could dissociate 
himself from the interests of the rest, upon pain of forfeiting 
his life. Alkibiades, however, had broken this fundamental 
law. He made an arbitrary use of his personal position to 
thwart his native city. Being nothing more than a citizen, 
he yet followed a policy peculiar to himself in order to over- 
power his opponents, who, though simple citizens themselves, 



ALKIBIADES IN OPPOSITION. 263 

held the supreme power at Athens in their hands. We shall 
see elsewhere that this was the way in which the Roman re- 
public, the greatest which ever existed, was transformed into 
a monarchy. Alkibiades was never in a position to conceive 
such a design ; he had not at his command, like Caesar, a 
power of his own by which to maintain his authority against 
his antagonists. He could only achieve this end by setting 
her most powerful neighbors in motion against his native city. 
It soon, however, became apparent that the interests of 
these states were divergent from his own. Originally in 
league with the Lakedaemonians, Alkibiades now found it 
necessary to oppose them. It could never have been his in- 
tention to procure for the Lakedaemonians an unconditional 
preponderance ; this would have been only to give himself a 
change of masters. His keenest efforts were actuated by a 
desire to obtain a footing in Athens once more, but at the 
same time he wished to maintain her autonomy against the 
Lakedaemonians. Herein he found a supporter in Tissa- 
phernes, whom he is said to have reminded that it was not to 
the interest of Persia to allow the dominion of the sea to fall 
into the hands of Sparta, but rather to keep Athens and 
Sparta in equilibrium. In this case, as in others, a political 
idea, in itself obvious enough, is attributed to the influence 
of Alkibiades. It was an idea of vital importance for the 
preservation of Athens. But it is obvious that it could not 
be acted on without the consent of the supreme authorities 
in the city itself. Here, in the natural course of things, op- 
posite parties had been formed, and views widely divergent 
were entertained. In order to understand the somewhat in- 
tricate course of the movements which were decisive of the 
main result, Ave must once more make Athens the principal 
object on which our eyes are to be fixed. 

5. State of Things at Athens during the Years immediately 
before and after the End of the Peloponnesia?i War. 

The admirals of the fleet at Samos were convinced that re- 
sistance to the combined forces of Lakedaemon and Persia 
was impossible. They were therefore inclined to welcome 
the prospect opened to them by a coalition between Alkibia- 



0(54. THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

des and Tissaphcrnes against the Lakeda?monians, while they 
favored a movement in the city opposed to the absolutism of 
a pure democracy. The internal commotions of the Athe- 
nian community were undoubtedly the result of external com- 
plications. The democracy, to which Alkibiades owed his 
banishment, stood condemned, so soon as it was seen to be no 
longer capable, in spite of all its efforts, of defending the 
state. Its maintenance became impossible when it appeared 
that Alkibiades would have to be recalled, if his negotiations 
with Tissaphcrnes were to be brought to a successful termi- 
nation. Alkibiades, however, had no wish to be recalled by 
those who had expelled him. On the contrary, his passionate 
desire for vengeance could be satisfied by nothing less than 
their destruction. His aims were furthered by the state of 
the democracy at the time. It was easy to find just cause of 
complaint against it in the pay given to the heliasts and the 
political supremacy which the lower classes had obtained. 
But the opposition which the democracy had to encounter 
was of a twofold nature. The democratic government in its 
present form was to be abolished. So far all were agreed. 
The question was, What would be the effect of such a change 
in so thoroughly democratic a state as Athens? What form 
of government was to take the place of the democracy ? 

What in fact happened was that the commanders of the 
fleet and the opponents of republican government in the city 
decided on measures of revolutionary violence against the 
democracy. The course of events was similar to that which 
took place in the Italian republics of the fourteenth and 
fifteenth centuries, when a "Balia" used to be intrusted with 
the revision of the constitution. At Athens a commission 
was nominated by popular vote for a similar object. Certain 
men of the highest authority took sides with the coming oli- 
garch}'. The most important of these was Antiphon, the 
founder of the art of rhetoric, who appears to have taken the 
lead throughout. What he proposed, or rather what the com- 
mission resolved, bore the stamp of a violent reaction. Five 
men of similar views were to increase their number by co- 
optation to a hundred. Each of these was empowered to add 
three more. The Council of Four Hundred thus composed 



SUPPRESSION OF THE DEMOCRACY. 205 

were thenceforward to exercise control over public affairs. 
Here, too, we are reminded of the Italian parliaments. Al- 
most exactly in the Italian fashion the people were then sum- 
moned to meet at Colonus, and gave their sanction to all that 
was done (411 B.O.). Thereupon the democratic Five Hun- 
dred retired from the council-hall and made way for the four 
hundred oligarchs. The change was as thorough as it was 
sudden. A popular assembly of Five Thousand was indeed 
supposed to exist, but whether it should meet or not was left 
to the Four Hundred to decide. They governed as they 
thought fit. The most important matter which called for 
their consideration was their position with regard to Sparta. 
Their inclination did not go quite so far as submission to the 
Lakedamionians. A Lakedamionian column marching from 
Dekeleia was repelled from the walls of Athens. But, though 
unwilling to submit, they were quite willing to make peace 
and even alliance with Lakedffimon. Theramenes himself, a 
worthy colleague of Antiphon, declared that the constitutional 
change was accepted by the people because it was likely to 
inspire confidence towards Athens in the minds of the Lake- 
damionians.* 

Partiality for Lakedfemon was, however, directly opposed 
to the intentions of the fleet. If an oligarchy of this kind 
were established, Alkibiades would have no chance of return. 
The fleet at Samos, engaged in a struggle with the Lakedse- 
monians for maritime supremacy, could not humble itself so 
far as to sue the enemy for peace. On the contrary, it in- 
sisted that Tissaphernes should be won over by Alkibiades. 
Against all that Alkibiades had hitherto projected or carried 
out sound objections may be raised. But at this juncture, 
when the safety of Athens was at stake, his conduct was 
blameless and even noble. lie came in person to Samos. It 
was at the very moment when the naval force, enraged at the 
proceedings at Athens, was preparing for an attack on the 
Peirams and the oligarchy was arming itself for resistance. 

*Xenophon, " Hellenica," ii. 3,45. The observations of Grote ("His- 
tory of Greece," viii. 18, note 2) may perhaps be ascribed to a precon- 
ceived opinion, which has sometimes a detrimental effect on the work of 
that excellent historian. 



L > ( ; { ; THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

At this point Alkibiadea showed himself superior to party 
spirit, He represented to the trierarchs the danger to which 
their conduct would expose the power oi Athens at every 
point; Ionia ami the Hellespont would at once desert their 
cause, and the Lakedseuionians would become Omnipotent in 
that quarter. Wo had now become one of the Strategi, and 
he used his official position to bring about a reconciliation be- 
tween the two parties. Ho declared that, for his own part, 
reconciliation with the Four Hundred was impossible, but 
that he should be satisfied if the resolution already mentioned 
wore carried into effeot, and the Assembly oi Five Thou- 
sand were endowed with the reality instead oi the semblance 
oi authority. 

This compromise was oi a nature very agreeable to his per 
Bona! feelings. 'The democracy was to be restored, hut not the 
democracy by which he was banished, for the Five Thousand 
consisted only of those who were capable of providing them- 
selves with arms. The whole tendency oi things at Athens 
pointed the same way. A division showed itself in the ranks 

of the Four Hundred. The extreme oligarchs were inclined 
to go further in the direction oi alliance with Sparta than the 
moderate party thought compatible with the welfare oi the 

state. In the midst oi this erisis a battle between the fleets 
oi Athens and Sparta took place off the eoast oi Fuboea. The 
former, which had to cope with the hostility oi the islanders 
as well, was beaten, and the island fell into the power oi the 
l.aked;vmonians. This event eaused extreme anxiety at 
Athens. Kesistanee to the l.akedamionians would have been 

impossible had they made an immediate attack upon the Pet 

rams. The historian of the period allows that nothing but 
their dilatoriness saved Athens. The danger was imminent. 

and, sinee aid could no longer be expected from any quarter 

except the fleet and army at Samos. their demands eould not 
be refused. All hesitation eame to an end. The popular as- 
sembly in the Pnyx accepted the proposals oi the ileet, Alki- 
biades was recalled, the Council oi Four Hundred was abol- 
ished (411 B.O.). On the other hand, the Assembly oi Five 
Thousand was called into being, and was recognized as the 
sovereign people oi Athens. 



THE DEMOCRACY RESTOBED. 2G7 

Thukydides holds this to bo the host considered of all the 

political reforms that took place at Athens during his lifetime. 
It will appear shortly that various fresh complications were 
connected with the change, but for the time being the idea of 
the democracy was saved, while it was clothed in a more 
moderate and practical form. It is nevertheless the opinion 
of our historian that all would have boon lost had the I'lwe- 
nician fleet of a hundred and fifty sail, which was already in 
the neighborhood, made common cause with the Lakedsamo- 
nians. Alkibiades always look credit for persuading Tissa- 
phernes to send the ileet home, and I see no reason for 
refusing to believe him. The vacillating policy of Tissapherncs 
can only be explained on the hypothesis that he was unwill- 
ing to see the total destruction of Athens, and nothing but 
the presence in Athens of Alkibiades, in whom he had great 
confidence, could hinder this event. It was a matter ofMess 
importance that Tissapherncs' neighbor, Pharnabazus, satrap 
of Phrygia, clung to the league between the king of Persia 
and the Peloponncsians, and supported the latter with all his 
might. The Phoenician fleet failed to appear, and the more 
considerable of the two satraps renounced the cause of the 
Peloponncsians. The Athenians could show themselves again 
with greater confidence at sea. This confidence was much in- 
creased when, in the first collision with the Lakedffimonian and 
Syracusan fleets off Kynossema, they won a decisive victory 
over the allies (411 b.o.). This triumph seemed to wipe off 
the stain of the defeat in the harbor of Syracuse. The hopes 
which the victory raised at Athens were strengthened soon 
after by another great success. A battle by sea and land, in 
which Alkibiades took part, was fought near Kyzikus. The 
Peloponncsians were defeated with great loss, and Kyzikus 
itself was reconquered by the Athenians (410 b.c). The Lakc- 
diemonian commanders were deeply depressed by this event; 
their announcement of it began with the words, "Our good 
luck is gone." The desertion by Alkibiades of his country's 
cause inflicted the severest losses on Athens. It was his 
reconciliation which, more than any other event, prevented 
her complete overthrow. To him was due even the recon- 
qucst of Byzantium. 



208 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

Had lie stopped short at this point, had he secured Athens 
in a position of safety, and established her among the great 
powers of the world, he would have won immortal renown as 
the savior of his country. But this consummation was again 
hindered by political differences with his allies. Everything 
depended on his inducing the satrap to spare Athens and 
desert Lakedeemon. But Tissaphernes was not an independ- 
ent prince, and the Great King felt himself bound to Laked©- 
mon by the treaty which he had shortly before made with 
that power. A satrap might, in the confusion of the moment, 
resolve on reconciliation with Athens, but such a measure was 
not likely to meet with approval at Susa. It was merely a 
personal resolution of the satrap, which set him at variance 
with his government. lie had no sooner taken up this new 
line than he had to abandon it again, and Alkibiades himself 
was the first to discover the change in his attitude. Full of 
the self-confidence with which recent successes had inspired 
him, he had returned to Tissaphernes, with the intention, one 
may well suppose, of establishing the alliance on a permanent 
footing. But the satrap was no longer what he had been. 
All his former cordiality had disappeared, and Alkibiades, 
perceiving that he was in danger of imprisonment, resolved 
to make his escape as soon as possible. The satrap does not 
appear to have pursued his former friend with all the vindic- 
tiveness which is customary in such cases, but a continuation 
of their former relations was impossible. The alliance be- 
tween Athens and the satrap of Sardis came to an end. Tis- 
saphernes soon afterwards made way for Cj'rus, the king's 
younger son, who appeared as Karanos of Asia Minor. "VVe 
shall have more to say about him presently ; it is enough at 
this point to state that he at once re-established the ancient 
alliance between Persia and Sparta. The historian who ex- 
amines these circumstances after the lapse of centuries is 
struck by the extent to which the fate of Greece in general, 
and of Athens and Alkibiades in particular, was dependent 
on the fluctuations of Persian policy. 

Alkibiades returned to Athens on the day of the festival 
of the Plynteria (May, 408 B.C.), on which the statues of the 
patron goddess used to be veiled. The day was considered 



RETURN OF ALKIBIADES. 269 

unlucky. Later authors described his return as a triumph ; 
the nearest contemporary witness has a different story to tell. 
According to this authority Alkibiades did not disembark 
immediately on coming to land, but waited till his nearest 
relations made their appearance in the port. Then, attended 
by a large crowd, he advanced towards the city. The crowd 
was not, however, all of one mind. Many considered him the 
source of all the misfortunes that had befallen Athens. But 
the majority took his side, on the ground that the charges 
made against him on a former occasion were false. It was 
nothing but stern necessity, said they, that compelled him, 
even at the risk of his life, to ally himself with the enemies of 
his country. In the popular assembly Alkibiades declared 
the rumor that he had insulted the Eleusinian mysteries to 
be unfounded. Thereupon he was chosen commander-in-chief, 
with absolute power. There was no opposition, for no one 
would have ventured, by dissenting from the proposal, to 
bring the wrath of the assembly in its present mood upon 
himself. 

Alkibiades was now regarded as the only man capable of 
restoring Athens to her old position. He himself must have 
already ceased to be confident of success in this direction, for 
lie was fully aware that he had lost the support of Persia. 
The aspect of his native city, so fallen from her high estate, 
could only strike him with a deeper melancholy, for he was 
bitterly conscious of having been the main cause of her down- 
fall. He laid the blame on no one, either on the people or 
his own foes ; he complained only of his evil fortune. He 
was eager to reconcile himself with his country and her gods, 
and his chief anxiety was that the sacred procession to Eleusis 
should again pass along the customary way towards the shrine. 
This project he carried out, attended by so strong a guard that 
the Lakedremonians, though near at hand, did not venture to 
molest the procession. This done, he put to sea again with 
a goodly fleet (Oct., 408 B.C.). It was still expected of him 
that he would restore the greatness of Athens, but the Lake- 
daemonians had meanwhile been reinforced, and offered a re- 
sistance that he could not overcome. The advantages which 
he contrived to win at sea were rendered unavailing by the 



270 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

obstinacy of the defeated cities, which naturally put forth all 
their strength to avoid falling again under the yoke of Athens. 
His plans were still further thwarted by a severe repulse 
which the fleet met with off the Ionian coast. Personally 
Alkibiades was not to blame, but the defeat was laid at his 
door. lie had, it was said at Athens, appointed an officer as 
his lieutenant who showed himself unfit for the post. The 
fact was that, even under the newly constituted democracy, 
he had never recovered his popularity with the masses, while 
the crews of the fleet placed no confidence in him. This, 
indeed, is not to be wondered at. Great performances on 
his part were the only means of justifying his restoration to 
power. 

It is at this point that the decisive influence of Persia on 
these affairs makes itself most clearly felt. The needful vic- 
tories became impossible so soon as Persian gold in abundance 
began to pour into the coffers of Lakedamion. Alkibiades 
saw clearly enough the altered condition of affairs, but he 
dared not return, for the people of Athens showed their dis- 
pleasure by putting other commanders in his place. The in- 
dividuality of his character consisted in this, that he pushed 
whatever project he had in hand as far as was possible, and 
seized upon any means of escape that remained, when his pol- 
icy appeared impracticable and his own safety was endan- 
gered. In the present difficulty his decision was quickly 
taken. He resolved to leave the fleet and retire to his forti- 
fied residence near Pactj'e, on the Thracian Chersonese. There 
he proposed to live as an independent prince, but by no means 
to cut himself adrift from public affairs. 

It is time to return to the war in which Athens was en- 
gaged. Its peculiarity consists in this, that it had to be car- 
ried on against the allied forces of Persia and Lakedsemon, 
and against the revolted allies to boot. To the credit of the 
Athenian democracy it must be said that it maintained the 
unequal conflict with all its native energy. When the Spartans 
under Callicratidas again won the upper hand at sea, the 
Athenians strained their resources to the utmost. In the 
space of thirty days they manned a fleet of a hundred and ten 
triremes with freemen and slaves. These efforts were reward- 



BATTLE OF ARGINUS^. 271 

ed by a decisive victory off Arginusos (Sept., 406 B.C.), in 
which the Lakedaemonians lost nineteen ships, with their com- 
manders. But at the same time the old violence of party 
spirit broke out anew in Athens. The eight Athenian stra- 
tegi had been prevented by a storm from rescuing the crews 
of the disabled ships, and from burying the dead who had 
fallen in the fight. The Athenian people, animated as usual 
by an excessive regard for religious ceremonial, considered 
this omission as a criminal offence. They were not satisfied 
with depriving of their offices the commanders who had won 
so great a victory. Two of the commanders, who doubtless 
knew the temper of the people, saved themselves by flight. 
The rest were all condemned and executed. Men like Socra- 
tes opposed the proceeding in vain. The chief evil of these 
religious antipathies was that political parties made use of 
them in the struggle with their opponents. We have seen an 
instance of this already in the trial of Alkibiades. Diomedon, 
one of the commanders, died in the very act of beseeching 
the people to perform the vow which he and his colleagues 
had made to Zeus the Preserver, to Apollo and the Venerable 
Goddesses, through whose aid the victory had been won. 

While Athens was in this manner banishing or putting to 
death the best men in the state, the Spartan oligarchy man- 
aged so far to overcome its prejudices as to intrust the su- 
preme command to one who, whatever might be urged against 
him on other grounds, was the fittest man they could find for 
the post. This man was Lysander. The most ancient tradi- 
tion informs us that he did not belong by birth to the ruling 
class, but to the Mothakes, a class consisting of those who, being 
of free descent, were adopted into the families of the Spar- 
tiatse, were educated with the Spartiate youth, and, by going 
through the whole course of Spartan discipline, became capa- 
ble of advancement to high positions in the state. Lysander 
imbibed to the full that craving for personal distinction which 
was the product of Spartan education. Though he never 
allowed himself to be seduced by bribes, he was well aware 
what bribes could do. Brave as he was — and none were 
braver — he is nevertheless related to have said, " When the 
lion's skin fails one must try the fox's hide." To the simplicity 



272 T IIE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

and straightforwardness of Callicratidas he brought the aid of 
craft and canning, lie used to say that falsehood was in its 
nature no worse than truth ; everything depended on the use 
to which it was applied. This was the man to whom the 
Spartans intrusted the supreme command against Athens. 
The struggle was in itself uneven. The Spartans might be 
defeated, and yet not lost, whereas the very existence of 
Athens depended on the safety of her wooden walls. 

In spite of this the Athenians displayed great want of cau- 
tion in the management of their affairs. The field of battle 
was again the Hellespont. Lysander had taken Lampsacus; 
the Athenians encamped opposite to him at /Egospotami. 
Alkibiades, who was residing in the neighborhood, rode up to 
the Athenian camp and advised them to shift their quarters 
to a point nearer Lesbos, because their ships were separated 
from each other while fetching provisions from thence. " We 
are the commanders, not you," was the only answer he re- 
ceived. But in the midst of their disorder they were attacked 
by Lysander, who, by means of frequent feints, had lulled 
them into a false security. He assailed them now in real 
earnest. The Athenians w r erc taken by surprise. Of all the 
commanders Conon alone offered any resistance. Three thou- 
sand men of proved courage were taken prisoners and put to 
death without exception, while no less than seventy ships fell 
into Lysander's hands (Oct., 405 b.c.). 

This was the blow through which Athens was to fall. There 
was neither fleet nor army left. Lysander took possession 
of all the islands. He restored the inhabitants of JEgina and 
Melos to their homes. In this proceeding he enjoyed the aid 
of Cyrus the younger, who at that time held supreme com- 
mand over Asia Minor. TItis circumstance explains the pre- 
eminence of Lysander in Sparta itself, and the universal anxi- 
ety which was felt as to what he would do. His fleet and a 
Lakedsemonian army appeared simultaneously before the city. 
The Athenians were afraid that they were about to share the 
fate which they had dealt out to others, and their fears were 
not groundless. The question was actually discussed whether 
Athens should be allowed any longer to exist. The Thebans 
were for expelling the inhabitants of Attica and converting 



FALL OF ATHENS. 273 

the country into pasture land again ; others, on the contrary, 
declared, with more justice, that it would be folly to deprive 
Greece of one of her eyes. The result, however, was that 
Athens owed her existence to the mercy of Sparta. The 
Long "Walls and the fortifications of the Peiraeus were levelled 
with the soil, to the sound of Spartan military music (April, 
404 b.c). On these conditions alone was Athens suffered to 
exist. 

One can scarcely conceive it possible that Athens should 
have been annihilated by Sparta and her allies. And yet how 
was it possible, how was it intended, that she should exist 
henceforward? She lost all her foreign possessions and all 
her naval force with the exception of a few ships. The con- 
nection between town and harbor was broken. Her free con- 
stitution, the source of all her opposition to Sparta, was as 
little likely to be tolerated here as in the other cities which 
Sparta had conquered. At all times it had been regarded as 
the conqueror's privilege to raise his friends and supporters 
to power in the places over which lie had won control. The 
return of Alkibiades, with all its results, even the last war with 
Sparta itself, were due to the democracy. It was plain, there- 
fore, that the democracy could exist no longer. The Spartans 
offered their protection to the party which, before the return 
of Alkibiades, had wished to make peace and alliance with 
them. The restoration of the Four Hundred was, of course, 
out of the question, and so large a number of rulers was un- 
necessary. It was enough that the collective authority should 
come into the hands of the party in which oligarchical ten- 
dencies were now embodied. The means adapted in order to 
accomplish this aim resembled those employed on the former 
occasion. 

A popular assembly was still regarded as representing, in 
the last resort, the sovereignty of the state. In a popular as- 
sembly, therefore, a committee was again selected, whose busi- 
ness it was to draw up a constitution, but which was to exer- 
cise supreme authority until the constitution should be com- 
pleted. The committee consisted of thirty persons, whose 
memory is preserved in later history under the title of the 
Thirty Tyrants. In reality only a third part of them were 

18 



274 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

elected. Twenty were already nominated either by the Lake- 
dsemonians or by the heads of the oligarchical faction. All 
were, however, accepted by the people. But if their origin 
must therefore be regarded as constitutional, their subsequent 
proceedings hardly merit the title. As is frequently the case 
with constituent bodies, they postponed indefinitely the exe- 
cution of their task. Meanwhile they kept all authority in 
their own hands and nominated to all offices of state. The 
lead among them was taken by Critias, a clever pupil of Soc- 
rates, but a man who regarded the possession of power as the 
highest aim of a statesman. His intention was to purify the 
state before giving it a constitution. The purification was 
effected by means of violence and bloodshed. The proscrip- 
tion fell not only on the sycophants of the democracy, but on 
good and honorable men who were suspected of lukewarmness 
towards the oligarchy. Greed, as usual, linked itself with 
political animosity. A Lakedremonian body-guard lent its 
aid to the execution of these violent measures. The conse- 
quence was that, as no hope of safety appeared, large numbers 
of persons left the city, and all classes of those who remained 
behind were thrown into a state of ferment. Critias merely 
remarked that such was the inevitable result of a great politi- 
cal revolution, and that such a revolution could not be accom- 
plished, especially in a city so populous and so accustomed to 
independence as Athens, without getting rid of all opponents. 
In the execution of this policy not even Alkibiades, then re- 
siding in Persia, was forgotten. 

Alkibiades had come to an understanding with the satrap 
Pharnabazus, and it was considered possible that he might win 
him over to the side of Athens. It is very probable that the 
opponents of the oligarchy at Athens, in their hopes that af- 
fairs in general would take a turn, cherished this expectation. 
Critias declared that, so long as Alkibiades lived, ho could 
never finish his work at Athens. Thereupon the Spartans, 
who were old allies of Pharnabazus, appear to have prevailed 
on the satrap to compass the destruction of Alkibiades. The 
latter was just about to make a journey to Susa, to visit the 
Great King. The house in which he w T as passing the night 
wa6 surrounded with logs and brushwood, which were then 



DEATH OF ALKIBIADES. 275 

set on fire. In the conflagration which ensued Alkibiadcs per- 
ished. The combination of Persian and Spartan policy, which 
he had himself promoted, at last destroyed the man who had 
held in his hand the fate of Athens. 

The complexities of human action and passion, or, if we 
prefer the word, of destiny, are displayed in a manner quite 
unique in the career of Alkibiadcs. Never at heart a citizen, 
but following the dictates of personal ambition, he lived to 
see the moment when the might of Athens and his own great- 
ness appeared to be one and the same. But, checked in his 
victorious career, and obliged to defend himself against politi- 
cal opponents, he turned to the ancient enemies of his country. 
He meant only to destroy those opponents, but he shattered 
the foundations of Athenian power. This power he hoped 
still to save, by the aid of one of the two foes he had himself 
aroused, whom he now alienated from the other and brought 
over to his country's side. But at the very moment when he 
again appeared at the head of the state, and when his hopes 
seemed near completion, this alliance broke down. The two 
foes joined hands anew against him and his country, and 
Athens and Alkibiadcs fell together. 

Among the oligarchs who now divided power in Athens 
there appeared, in spite of outward unity, certain differences 
of opinion. Many of those who had brought about the peace 
with Laked?emon, and had helped to pass the resolutions which 
established the dominion of the Thirty, began at last to recoil 
from the consequences of their own proceedings. Such was 
the attitude of Theramenes. He made light of the destruction 
of the Long Walls, for if, said he, the welfare of the city had 
once demanded their erection, their destruction was equally 
indispensable. On the other hand, he objected to the violent 
conduct of Critias, on the ground that the execution of inno- 
cent citizens could not but alarm and alienate the rest. The 
Lakedsemonians, he said, could not mean to deprive Athens of 
her best citizens and of all her resources. Had that been their 
object it might have been easily attained by stopping the 
supplies, for sickness, following in the track of famine, would 
have destroyed the whole population. Hence it appears that 
Theramenes considered it advisable to maintain a moderate 



276 THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

system of government under the protection of Lakedoemon. 
But failure is sure to l>e the lot of those politicians who fancy 
that they can nt the same time secure the existence of a com- 
munity by submission to the enemy, and its domestic wcll- 
being by moderation at home — for widespread influence be- 
longs to independent ideas alone. 

Critias had made up his mind to prevent the democracy 
that had caused them so much ill from ever lifting up its head 
again. In its annihilation he beheld the most important 
means of maintaining undisturbed the general political situa- 
tion. In his attempt to bring other tendencies into play, both 
in the intimate counsels of the Thirty and in the deliberative 
assembly, Thcramenes appeared not only as a deserter, but as 
a traitor to the cause. Critias himself came forward as his 
accuser, struck his name out of the list of fully qualified citi- 
zens, who could only be brought to trial in a, regular way, and 
then of his own authority pronounced against him the sen- 
tence of death. Thcramenes tied to the altar of Ilestia, but 
was torn away from the sanctuary, lie atoned by an heroic 
death for the blot which his vacillating attitude had fixed upon 
his character. In the civil disturbances at Home his memory 
was revered by those who, like Cicero, for example, were ani- 
mated by feelings of a similar kind. 

The men of this epoch awaken, even in our own day, sym- 
pathy and antipathy, just because the political and religious 
contrasts which they represent are such as constantly reappear 
under new conditions and in other forms. The most remarka- 
ble effort of the Thirty was that which aimed at establishing 
a constitution by an act of absolute power. The whole popu- 
lation, with the exception of three thousand persons, was dis- 
armed. These three thousand were not only allowed to keep 
possession of their weapons, but were also guaranteed the 
privilege of full citizenship, a privilege which had been re- 
fused to Thcramenes, and which implied security from vio- 
lence and from all proceedings but those of a legal nature. 
Thus constituted, the state consisted of the thirty holders of 
power, the legal functionaries whom they had appointed, and 
the selected citizens who retained possession of their arms. 
It is impossible to conceive anything more unlike the earlier 



THE THIRTY TYRANTS. 277 

constitution, in which the whole community was endowed 
with equal rights, while the government was carried on by 
deliberative bodies proceeding from that community, and by 
officers chosen by lot or elected by the people. 

It was not, however, in the nature of tilings that so vigorous 
a state as Athens should permanently submit to a rule of vio- 
lence like this. It often happens that in great political crises 
there come to light elements of sufficient strength to resist 
the extremity of the evil even when it appears overwhelming. 
In this case everything turned upon the fact that Greece in 
general found the weight of Spartan supremacy intolerable. 
The satrap of Sardis had sought in the interests of Persia to 
maintain a balance of power between Athens and Sparta. 
The Greeks, too, felt the need of some counterpoise to Sparta, 
which made use of its preponderance fur the most selfish ends. 
It was in Thebes, hitherto the implacable foe of Athens, that 
this revulsion of feeling was first apparent. The conduct of 
the Thebans was not in realit} r so inconsistent as it may at first 
sight appear. They had begun by proposing the complete 
annihilation of the Athenian state, which would have given 
them the control of Attica. Now that the existence of Athens 
was to be maintained, under a constitution agreeable to Spartan 
ideas, they exclaimed loudly against this turn of affairs, for 
thereby Sparta gained a position in the immediate neighbor- 
hood of Thebes which would be fatal to their independence. 
Lysander was unwilling that the political system lately set up 
at Athens should be exposed to attack from exiles, lie there- 
fore issued a decree that exiles should not be received into 
any city that called itself the ally of Sparta. The purport of 
this measure was plain to all. Thebes refused to obey the 
command. The democratic exiles from Athens found shelter 
and protection in oligarchical Thebes. Differences of consti- 
tution and distinction of race alike gave way before higher 
political interests, and when the exiles, under the leadership 
of Thrasybulus, a man who had highly distinguished himself 
towards the end of the conflict with Lakedcemon, made as if 
they would invade Attica, the Thebans promised to connive 
at the attempt. 

Thrasybulus was thus enabled to march into Attica with 



27S THE ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY. 

a numerous band of exiles, and was joyfully received in the 
Peirseus, the population of which was of the same mind. The 
oligarchical party in the city attempted to put down the re- 
volt. Fortunately for the democrats, their chief opponent, 
Oritias, lost his life in the attempt. This success did not, 
however, give them the command of the city, and their posi- 
tion became critical when Pausanias, the Spartan king, arrived 
with an army on the scene and at once gained a decisive ad- 
vantage over them. It now depended entirely on Pausanias 
under what constitution Athens should continue to exist. At 
this juncture the Spartans themselves perceived the necessity 
of keeping an autonomous Athens at their side. The Athe- 
nian oligarch}' conferred upon Lysander, to whom it owed its 
foundation and its permanence, a preponderating influence, 
not only in Athens, but in Sparta as well; and Pausanias 
feared that the maintenance of this oligarchy might recoil 
upon himself. The hereditary champion of the oligarchical 
system in Sparta and in Greece manifested an inclination fa- 
vorable to democracy in Athens. Under these circumstances 
an understanding was come to, in consequence of which 
Thrasvbulus and his comrades entered the city (Sept., 403 
B.C.). In the Acropolis itself he passed a resolution to re- 
store the ancient constitution of Athens, together with the 
Solonian and even the Draconian laws. These laws were 
modified to some extent, but the changes were of slight im- 
portance. The revolution consisted mainly in this, that an 
elective council was again substituted for that which had been 
appointed by a body of irresponsible rulers. 

The Athenian system combined democratic and conserva- 
tive tendencies. The democracy was hallowed by the most 
ancient national traditions. Its restoration was in accordance 
with history as well as with the sympathies of the masses. 
Thrasvbulus had been fortunate enough to seize the exact 
moment when this restoration was possible. Put to him and 
his companions belongs the imperishable glory of having 
commenced their undertaking with skill and courage in spite 
of the most unfavorable conditions. Thrasvbulus now repre- 
sented the autonomy of Athens. The Spartan king had only 
the merit of having allowed its recovery. The Thirty, who 



RESTORATION OF THE DEMOCRACY. 279 

had taken up their quarters in Elensis, no longer supported 
by Sparta, and deserted by their own friends, gave way before 
the overwhelming foree of their opponents. A general am- 
nesty, which aimed at the reconciliation of oligarchs and 
democrats, put an end to the universal confusion. It is the 
first amnesty recorded in history. 

Athens was no longer the great naval power of old, pos- 
sessed of far-reaching authority, and striving for universal 
empire by sea and land. In the attempt to become the polit- 
ical capital of Hellas she had failed, but the intellectual de- 
velopment which had accompanied that attempt was a gain 
which no misfortune could destroy. Athens had thereby be- 
come the metropolis of intellectual culture for the whole 
human race. Observed from the point of view of universal 
history, many a movement, whose influence is not universally 
decisive, may, and indeed must, be passed over. But that 
culture which has become the common property of other 
nations and succeeding centuries will only receive the closer 
attention. 



Chapter VIII. 

ANTAGONISM AND THE GROWTH OF RELIGIOUS IDEAS IN 
GREEK LITERATURE. 

The political life, whose main features we have now ex- 
amined, was accompanied by an intellectual development 
which manifested itself in literature. These two aspects of 
national life were closely connected, but not identical. The 
creations of the intellect, though subject in their origin to 
the influence of general political conditions, are nevertheless 
independent in their growth. Greek literature, from the end 
of the sixth to the second half of the fourth century, presents 
an intellectual phenomenon of the utmost importance to man- 
kind. The poets and thinkers of Greece attempted to solve 
the hardest questions connected with the relations of things 
divine and human ; and between them all, while each inquirer 
made the attempt in his own way, an unbroken connection 
may be traced. Their productions, taken together, are of in- 
estimable value to mankind, not so much as a body of teach- 
ing and dogma, but as the expression of those great thoughts 
whence springs the inner life of the intellectual world. It will 
not, I trust, appear out of place if I introduce into the histor- 
ical narrative some remarks on this intellectual development. 

1. The Older Philosophers in the Colonics, especially in 
those of the West. 

It must not be supposed that contact with Oriental concep- 
tions had no effect upon the Grecian world. But there is no 
historical proof that the mythological and religious systems 
of the East had penetrated to Greece and come to light again 
in the most ancient dicta of Greek philosophy. What influ- 
enced the Greek intellect was not Oriental mythology, of which 



THE IONIAN PHILOSOPHERS. 281 

there was enough already in Greece, but Oriental science. If 
we consider the Greek cosmogony in its entirety, as conceived 
and expounded by Ilesiod, we shall see that it is diametri- 
cally opposed to the astronomy of the Babylonians. This 
astronomy, passing through the medium of the Phoenicians, 
made its way at length to Greece. The Ionian colonies were 
naturally the first affected. 

Above the darkness of the ages rises the figure of Thales 
of Miletus, a man of ancient Phoenician descent, who stands 
at the head of all Greek philosophers. He is famous for hav- 
ing foretold an eclipse of the sun, and for having invented a 
theory of the origin of things, which deduced everything 
from one primary substance — namely, water. These two 
points are closely connected. The cosmogony of the Greeks 
was scattered to the winds by the first contact with the science 
of astronomy, and this gave rise to the attempt to find a real- 
istic basis for the material world in which we live. Thus 
philosophy soon took up an attitude hostile to mythology. 
Anaximander declared the countless orbs which he perceived 
in the sky to be the heavenly gods, but distinguished from 
these again an eternal and immutable basis or ground of 
things, which was itself divine.* Xenophanes, who at the 
time of the Median invasion left Ionia, and after many wan- 
derings found a home in the Phokaean colony of Elea, placed 
himself in direct opposition to the orthodox religion. Among 
other things Xenophanes rejected the notion of a Golden 
Age, and held, on the contrary, that man had improved his 
lot in the course of time. lie declared outright his belief 
that the gods derived their origin from men, not men from 
the gods, so human was the character attributed to the latter. 
He regarded the rainbow as nothing but a cloud, on which 

* Comp. Brandis, " Handbuch der griechisch-roniischen Philosopliie," i. 
p. 138. Meu, according to Anaximauder's theory of their origin, first lived 
in water like fishes, because they could not have kept themselves alive 
on dry land on account of their helplessness during the first ages of 
their existence; afterwards, when they took to dry land, they did not 
become capable of life till they had burst the fishes' skins in which they 
were clothed. This theory is doubtless connected with the fish-gods of 
the Phoenicians. 



050 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

different colors play. These ideas, directly opposed as they 
were fco a belief in the gods, inspired the men of Elea, the pu- 
pils of Xenophanes, in the making of their laws. Cosmogony, 
religion, and politics were as yet one and the same. About 
the same time this connection manifested itself in another 
place on a greater scale and with more splendor than before. 

Pythagoras is a sort of heroic figure in the history of an- 
cient philosophy. The reverence which he inspired became 
poetical, and shrouded his real character in obscurity. His 
birthplace, Samoa, was in his day a central point of inter- 
national relations, and was in close political connection with 
Egypt. Those journeys to distant regions which tradition 
attributes to Pythagoras can hardly have been necessary. 
Without leaving Samos he could acquaint himself by personal 
observation with the national characteristics of the East, and 
gain instruction in Eastern modes of thought. But Samoa, 
where the inhabitants on one occasion threatened to persecute 
a philosopher because he overthrew an altar sacred to the 
Universe, was no place for Pythagoras. He betook himself to 
the Dorian colonics in Southern Italy, and collected in Orotona 
a school of pupils, who revered him as an infallible master. 
It is quite possible that Oriental traditions may have influ- 
enced his teaching, but there is nothing Eastern in the essen- 
tial portion of the Pythagorean doctrine. This doctrine was 
based upon a perception of the invariable mathematical laws 
which govern the motions of the heavenly bodies. In these 
motions numerical relations appeared of such importance that 
the philosopher, confusing form with substance, fancied he 
recognized in number a divine creative force which ruled all 
things from the beginning. Number, whose importance 
was indubitably manifest in music, appeared in like manner 
to be the basis oi the universal harmony of things. It was 
but a short step further to speak of the music of the spheres. 

In views like these there was no room for that reverence 
for the gods which was in vogue among the Greeks. The 
most ancient authorities agree in saying that Pythagoras set 
forth, in opposition to the public religion, a secret religion of 
his own, in which his views of nature, veiled in mysterious 
and solemn phrases, contradicted all that was ordinarily re- 



PYTHAGORAS AND EMPEDOCLES. 2S3 

garded as truth. I shall not exaggerate the importance of 
the Pythagorean league if I sec in it an institution which suc- 
cessfully opposed the advance of Phoenician superstition, then 
issuing from Carthago to overflow the Western world, and 
which even exerted an influence on the natural religion of 
the Western nations. It is perhaps an exaggeration of this 
influence when it is maintained that the teaching of the 
Druids in Gaul shows traces of Pythagorean doctrine. In 
the colonies its aristocratic proclivities prepared the way for 
its downfall. 

l\Kan while, in the immediate neighborhood, that is, in 
Sicily, there appeared a thinker of original power, whoso 
tendencies differed widely from those of Pythagoras. Of all 
the products of Sicily none, says an ancient poet, was so ad- 
mirable, none so holy, as Empedocles of Agrigentum. Agri- 
gentum was at this time a city of exceptional splendor. Its 
flourishing condition was due to the trade with Carthage, 
which imported thence the productions of the fertile Sicilian 
soil. The city, it is said, contained a population, including 
foreigners, of two hundred thousand inhabitants. It was in 
this place that Empedocles, who was a member of one of the 
richest and noblest families in the state, struck out a course 
for himself both in religion and politics. He overthrew 
the aristocratic government of the Thousand, which at that 
time ruled the city. At the very doors of the temple which 
its governors had built in honor of Olympian Zeus, of 
Heracles, and other deities, and whose ruins form, perhaps, 
the best extant example of early Doric architecture, he un- 
folded a doctrine which rejected all the gods and attacked 
their worship with hostility and contempt. His mind applied 
itself to nature alone, the phenomena of which, as visible not 
far off in .Etna, were likely to attract special study and at- 
tention. Into the doctrine of a primary substance, which 
came to Sicily from Ionia, he introduced some consistency 
through the notion of four elements, which he was the first 
to distinguish. This fundamental conception, firmly main- 
tained both in ancient and modern times, held its ground 
until it was overthrown by the discoveries of our own day. 
Among these elements lie gave fire, as a primary force, the 



2Stt PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

most important place. It was in the crater of iEtna, we are 
told, that he himself met with his death. Some fragments 
of his works are still extant, which bear witness to the depth 
and boldness of his intellect and still afford food for thought.* 
They are less closely connected with Pythagoras than with 
the notions about Eternal Being, which had been brought into 
prominence by the followers of Xenophanes in Elea. 

This triad of ancient seats of philosophy, Crotona, Elea, 
and Agrigentum, is very remarkable. In the Grseco-Sicilian 
colonies those ideas were developed which owed their origin 
to the contact of Greek and Eastern minds in Ionia. They 
form the foundation of all the philosophy of the human race. 
But at that time, immediately before the Persian wars or 
during their continuance, conceptions of this kind could not 
force their way into the heart of Hellas. In Greece itself 
reverence for the gods firmly held its ground, and was 
strengthened by the nature of the struggle with Persia, a 
struggle deeply tinged throughout its whole course by relig- 
ious feeling. The victories of the Greeks were at the same 
time the victories of their gods. But mere dull credulity was 
not natural to the Greek nation. The echo of those philo- 
sophical ideas which opposed the traditional faith could not 
die away without producing some effect. Even if they were 
not accepted, the thoughtful mind could not fail to see the 
contradiction between the cosmogony of Ilesiod and the Idea 
of the Divine. The religious conceptions of the day, based 
on the ancient Greek view, which was still on the whole 
maintained, may best be traced in the writings of the poets. 
Poetry had helped to found the mythological system, and its 
influence continued to be felt throughout the conflicts by which 
that system was gradually modified. 

2. Pindar. 

The first incentive to the exercise of the poetic art was 

"Empedocles was of opinion that it was not till after various unsuc- 
cessful attempts that creatures capable oi' life were produced; comp. 
Zeller, " Ueber die griechischen VorgSnger -Darwin's," AbhanJl. dcr 
Kon'hjJ. Akademie dcr Wiasensdh. vu Berlin, \S"!S, p. 115. 



PINDAR. 285 

given by the gymnastic games. Prizes were contested for in 
these games, in which worship was paid to the gods, and all 
the powers of the body, as well as the resources which wealth 
and worldly position could supply, were exerted to the utmost. 
The Epinikia, or odes in praise of the victors, performed a 
double task : they added splendor to the act of worship and 
ennobled the distinguished men who carried off the prize. A 
happy fate has preserved these odes of victory to our own 
day. In them we find expressed a condition of mind which 
can devote itself to the highest ideas without renouncing the 
traditional worship of the gods. The chief representative of 
this phase of the Greek intellect is Pindar. It is not to be 
denied that the systems of Pythagoras and Thales were 
known to Pindar, or that he appropriated some part of their 
teaching. But we need not go further into this question. 
Our object is to discover his general position. 

Early mythology, which dealt with the origin of the uni- 
verse, had been subjected to anthropomorphic tendencies. 
Pindar intentionally combats the unworthy conception which 
these tendencies had introduced into the Idea of divine 
nature. He refuses to believe that the gods were gluttonous, 
as the story of Tantalus and Pelops would imply. Ho in- 
vents for himself another method for the rescue of Pelops, 
more in accordance with the Greek temperament. The 
punishment of Tantalus he deduces from his overweening 
pride. For the same reason he shrinks from narrating the 
victories of Heracles over the gods, while he cannot value 
too highly his other triumphs. Only that which is seemly 
must be told of the gods. To slight the gods appears to 
Pindar a kind of madness. 

Pindar does his best in all cases to bring into prominence 
the religious and moral elements in the legends with which he 
deals, as, for instance, the modesty and self-restraint displayed 
by Peleus out of respect for Zeus Xenius, or the pride of 
Ixion, which brought down upon him the wrath of the gods. 
To the gods all things are subject. In accordance with this 
view the ancient story of the struggle between the gods and 
the Titans is toned down. Typhoeus, the symbol of the law- 
less forces of nature, as he is represented even in Pindar, is 



2S6 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

made to appear full of pride and violence, hostile alike to the 
gods and to the Muses. The gods, in fact, are unapproachable 
and terrible, but their might rests on moral foundations, an- 
swering to the ideals of human existence, and of these ideals 
Pindar has a lofty conception. 

One of his fundamental thoughts is that everything is due 
to inborn virtue and to natural gifts. We live not all for 
the same end. The goddess of birth and the goddess of fate, 
Eileithuia and Moira the inscrutable, are united in Pindar's 
mind. The virtue conferred on man by fate is in time per- 
fected as fate decrees. He who knows only what he has 
learned marches with no certain foot towards his goal ; he 
pursues the most diverse aims and brings nothing to com- 
pletion. " Become that which thou art," says Pindar, and 
nobler counsel has never been given ; for, indeed, what can a 
man become but that for which his inborn nature intends 
him ? 

But without toil comes no good-fortune ; labor tries the 
man, and nothing is without the gods. From them comes 
the ability to bring a thing to completion ; from them come 
boldness, wisdom, eloquence. Pindar demands of all men 
modesty and zeal. Jason appears to be a model of all that 
he admires in man ; Jason, who has a rightful claim, but urges 
it with noble gentleness and youthful modesty ; Jason, who 
shrinks not from the labor laid upon him by the unrightful 
possessor of the authority that is his own, and who is sup- 
ported by the gods, by Hera and Poseidon, even by Aphrodite, 
and, above all, by Zeus. The heroes in the Argo take courage 
when they perceive the signs of Zeus that promise them suc- 
cess. In this world, in which native vigor and laborious toil 
are favored by Heaven, glory finds its proper place. Talent, 
virtue, glory, are all really one, or, at any rate, are found to- 
gether. Glory is the remedy for toil. Virtue grows, when 
watered by the words of the wise, as the tree by dew. Song, 
which issues from the depths of the soul with the favor of 
the Graces, is the natural accompaniment of noble deeds. If 
these remain unsung they perish after death. Thus the poet 
appears in the midst of this world as part and parcel of it, in- 
separable from the rest. Pindar praises the victors in the 



PINDAR. 287 

games, their families, their fatherland, and the games them- 
selves. He sees all things in their widest mythical, poetical, 
and national connection. He connects Kyrene and Rhodes, 
Syracuse, Agrigentum, and the Epizephyrian Locri with the 
central point of the national religion, the Omphalus at Del- 
phi.* Men like him did much to keep up the consciousness 
of Greek nationality. 

Pindar can value at their proper worth good-fortune and 
well-being, but he always demands that they shall be com- 
bined with some virtue or other, and his songs of praise are 
interspersed with warnings. In the same light he regards 
the future beyond the grave. He differs widely from all his 
predecessors in representing evil deeds as punished by a " re- 
morseless doom," while the good, honored by the gods to 
whom they have kept their word, behold the same sun night 
and day, and brighten with tales and memories their mutual 
converse. The future life which Pindar imagines is, like his 
conception of the present, an endless festival after the games. 
Elsewhere he makes the spirits of the wicked wander to and 
fro between earth and heaven, while he places the spirits of 
the just in heaven itself, "praising the mighty dead."f 

When we turn our gaze upon the material conditions which 
are brought to light in the poetry of Pindar, the old aristo- 
cratic world of the Greeks comes before our eyes in all its 
splendor.;}: On all sides are to be seen wealthy and distin- 
guished families rich enough to keep a four-horsed chariot. It 
adds to the fame of the family that the colts were broken un- 
der their own hands. The masters themselves put on them 
the shining harness; then they call upon Poseidon, and spur 

* " 6fi(pa\6e dicebatur lapis albus in adyto templi in quo duae aquilse 
aureae." They showed the presence of Zeus, who presided over the oracle. 
On the myth of the meeting of the two eagles " a finibus terrae " comp. 
Dissen on "Pyth." iv. § ii. 219. 

t Md/capa fieyav atiSovT iv vfivoiQ. Threni iii. in Bockh (Bergk, " Poetse 
Lyrici Graeci," p. 291, fragm. 97). 

J Pindar indicates very unreservedly the different constitutions, the 
tyrannis, the rule of the unbridled people (\afipog arparoc), the rule of the 
wise. In his opinion fairness and wisdom are always the best ("Pyth." 
iii.). 



28S PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

their horses to their highest speed. Pindar shows us even 
the domestic life of those he celebrates. In him, as in Ho- 
mer, we see the walls surrounding the outer court ; within it 
stands the building itself, its roof supported by pillars ; and 
last of all the "oikos," the human dwelling, in which the feast 
is spread when the games are done. 

All these families, great and small, trace their origin to the 
gods. The Euneidce in Athens, a family whose calling it was 
to attend sacred processions as dancers and lute-players, traced 
their descent from Euneus, the son of Jason. The Iamidse, a 
family endowed with prophetic gifts, were descended from 
Apollo : to this family belonged Tisamenus, the soothsayer of 
the Spartans.* On Mount Pelion dwelt the Cheironidoe, a 
race who devoted themselves to the science of medicine and 
traced their origin to the Cheiron of Homer. We see the 
physicians handing soothing potions to the sick, or binding 
up the wounded limbs with medicinal herbs, and uttering 
meanwhile a kind of charm — a class not unwilling to make 
profit of their skill. 

Everything in Pindar has a dignity and character of its 
own. The clan of the Aleuadee, at whose head stand three 
brothers, rules the republic of Thessaly. In the towns hered- 
itary government is to be seen, and affairs are conducted 
wisely by good men. The ode to Thrasydosus of Thebes is 
written with the intention of warning him to shrink from any 
attempt to set up a tyranny. 

The poet, though a native of Thebes, shows especial prefer- 
ence for ./Egina. Asopns, a river of Bceotia, was regarded as 
father of the two sisters ^Egina and Thebe, while between 
Heracles, whose shrine was in the house of Amphitryon at 
Thebes, and the Eakidaa in iEgina is said to have existed of 
old a brotherhood of arms. The alliance between Thebes 
and the warlike yEgina had in reality an origin and reason of 
quite another kind, but Pindar's gaze is always directed upon 
those ties which unite mankind with the heroes and the gods. 
In Pindar, too, every thing has its peculiar virtue: iEgina, for 

* "Olympic in ara Jovis maxima oraculi praesides vatcsque hereditario 
jure fuerunt." — Bockh, ii. 2, p. 152. 



^ESCHYLUS. 289 

example, is famed for having produced the champions most 
distinguished in war, and for being, at the same time, a seat 
of righteousness. 

At the time of the battle of Marathon Pindar was over 
thirty years old ; at the time of the battle of Salamis lie was 
over forty. He had taken up his position while still very 
young, and had formed himself before the outbreak of the 
war with Persia, in which, as a Theban, he took no part. He 
lays before us the broad characteristics of Greek society, as 
that society was constituted before the conclusion of the Per- 
sian wars. 

3. sEschylus. 

^Eschylus was a contemporary of Pindar, probably a few 
years older than the latter, but he was an Athenian. In poli- 
tics he was no democrat, but rather an aristocrat by birth, for 
he came of a noble family in Eleusis. In the war, however, 
men of all parties in Attica fought side by side. vEschylus 
took his share in the battles of Marathon, Salamis, and Pla- 
tsea, and could show honorable scars from the wounds which 
he had received. His works belong entirely to the new pe- 
riod, which begins after the Persian wars. They present to 
us all the internal ferment of the Greek mind. From the 
stage of the newly created theatre, another offspring of relig- 
ious festivals, ^Eschylus draws the masses into the thick of 
intellectual strife. He has no particle of the gentle and con- 
ciliatory spirit that distinguishes Pindar. 

In the " Prometheus Bound," one of the boldest and most 
original dramas that have ever been written, ^Eschylus ap- 
proaches the great questions about the world and the gods 
from the point of view offered by the myth of the Titans. 
To the primeval deities and their creations, which have been 
conquered and all but annihilated by Zeus, belongs man. He, 
too, is destined to annihilation, or, at any rate, would have 
been condemned to a miserable and bestial existence in sun- 
less dens, had not his part been taken by one of the Titans, 
who had allied himself with Zeus against the rest. Prome- 
theus brings men fire, and through fire they arrive at a knowl- 
edge of the arts. He teaches them to distinguish the seasons 
of the year, and to subdue the wild beasts to their service; he 

19 



290 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

shows them how to build houses and to sail the sea ; he 
strengthens and sharpens their understanding. In Prome- 
theus, at once Titan and god, is to be seen a personification of 
the human intellect, which in its origin is independent of Zeus 
and the twelve greater gods. The Greek deities had come 
victorious out of the struggle with the Persian. ./Eschylus 
acknowledged their dominion, but scarcely their omnipotence, 
still less the justice of such omnipotence. The piece that we 
are examining breathes throughout a lofty solitude, where el- 
ements and ideas alone come into conflict. Therein appears 
the spirit of man, with its inherent vigor, as one of the Titans, 
who, unlike the rest of his fellows, has not been vanquished 
by the gods. The dominion of the victorious deities, who 
have only baffled the forces of nature by the exercise of pow- 
ers resembling those of man, is new and therefore violent. 
Henceforward no one is free excepting Zeus. He pronounces 
judgment ; he is the absolute ruler, responsible to none. His 
one opponent he subjects to a chastisement of pain, which is 
renewed day by day. He would kill him if he had the power; 
but Prometheus knows that he has forces on his side which 
lie beyond the tyranny of the present. Rather than submit 
he will suffer, and wait till this tyranny has run its course. 
We leave him in the midst of an earthquake, in which sea 
and sky are mingled together, calling once more the primeval 
powers to witness the injustice which he has to bear. 

Here, at the very threshold of dramatic poetry, we find the 
spirit of man pictured in outlines whose grandeur has never 
been surpassed — that ambitious, defiant spirit of invincible 
courage which stands upon its rights, which never gives way, 
which behind every outward form of things foresees the ad- 
vent of another. AVe can never cease to regret that the sec- 
ond part of the trilogy, the " Prometheus Unbound," is not 
extant. In this stage, where the riddle comes before us in its 
crudest and sharpest form, the answer would have been more 
than ever instructive. All that we know of the play is that 
Prometheus speaks the word which secures Zeus in his domin- 
ion. As a sign of his subjection he wears a wreath of withy, 
the tree whose twigs are generally employed as bonds. 

A similar contrast makes itself apparent in the other dra- 



jESCHylus. 291 

mas of iEschylus. In the "Seven against Thel)es" the mo- 
tive of the plot is the religions contrast between the besiegers 
and the defenders of the city. The besiegers disregard the 
unfavorable omens of sacrifice ; they boast that they will take 
the city whether the gods will it or no. On their shields they 
bear the symbols of pride ; as, for instance, a picture of Ty- 
phoeus vomiting forth smoke and flame. On the other hand, 
the defenders of the city cling to the protection of the gods 
with a fervor that is even troublesome to their commander. 
A splendid figure is Eteocles, a man resolute and circumspect, 
who feels sure of victory through the favor of the gods in the 
face of all his enemies' pride. lie has the advantage over 
Polyneikes in that he defends his native altars and his father- 
land. But beyond the conflict his fate awaits him. The 
Erinyes, aroused by the unholy marriage, are yet nnappeased, 
and to them he falls a victim in the moment of victory. 

Another aspect of victory through alliance with the gods 
appears in the " Persians." The fall of Xerxes is the result of 
the crime which he committed in stripping the statues of the 
gods and in burning their temples, and of his violence in 
aspiring to bind the river of God, the Bosporus and the sa- 
cred Hellespont. His father is called up from the under- 
world to foretell his fate. The land was now, as the poet- 
adds, allied with the gods, and endowed with wisdom and un- 
tiring courage. 

We may be permitted to take a glance at the other dramas 
of yEschylus from the same point of view. In the " Suppli- 
ants" the king would doubtless be regarded as the protago- 
nist. At any rate, everything depends upon the resolution 
which he takes when the suppliants threaten to destroy them- 
selves at the very feet of the statues of the gods. He decides 
to protect them rather than permit such a defilement of the 
land. lie ventures this step in conjunction with his people, 
though aware that it will involve him in war. The following 
play, the " Danaids," of which only a few verses are preserved, 
no doubt showed that his expectations were not deceived. 
The relations between gods and men receive special illustra- 
tion in this drama from the way in which the gods of the 
country at one time ward off the foreigner and at another 



292 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

take him into their protection. With such great contrasts 
our poet is always concerned. 

Into the depth of these contrasts we arc introduced in the 
" Oresteia." The first choric ode of the ''Agamemnon" 
brings the old conflict of the gods to our recollection. The 
chorus sides with him who lias been thrice victorious in this 
conflict, with Zeus, whoever he may be, Zeus, who leads men 
by suffering to thought. The plot depends on Agamemnon's 
resolution to appease the wrath of Artemis by the sacrifice of 
his child. He bows to necessity, and, as he does so, thoughts 
unholy and criminal come into his mind. The chorus relates 
with sympathetic horror how the evil deed was done upon the 
innocent child. In this religion there is a strange contradic- 
tion in that, in order to please the gods, it is necessary to do 
that which is evil. Agamemnon at length returns, covered 
with glory, his task accomplished ; but vengeance awaits him 
in his own home. The murderess, magnificent in the studied 
composure with which she carries out her plan, can, at least, 
say that her hand fulfils only the ends of justice, that it is her 
spouse who has brought evil on the house. The chorus do 
not venture to deny her plea. It is only against her immoral 
connection with yEgisthus, and against .zEgisthus himself, who 
has polluted the hero's bed and then helped in his murder, 
that they pour forth their rage and horror. It is this sin 
which brings vengeance on the guilty pair. Apollo will not 
allow the union between man and wife, a union sanctified by 
the favor of Zeus and of Hera, the goddess of wedlock, to be 
dishonored in this fashion. By every kind of encouragement 
and threat he urges on the son of the murdered man to slay 
the murderers in like manner as they slew his father. 

The play of the " Choephoroe " shows how Orestes carries 
out the oracular command, lie slays zEgisthus. As he is 
about to slay his mother, and as she kneels before him, he 
hesitates a moment ; his friend urges him on, for no word of 
Apollo, says he, may remain unfulfilled ; it were better to have 
all else against one than the gods. l>ut hardly has the hor- 
rid deed been done when Orestes feels himself under the con- 
trol of another power. Apollo has promised him that he shall 
be free from guilt, but this docs not save him from the results 



^ESCHYLUS. 203 

of his action, lie feels his senses at once go astray, like a 
chariot carried out of its course in the race, and the Furies, 
the avengers of his mother, their heads wreathed with ser- 
pents, throw themselves upon him like savage hounds. 

The Furies are the daughters of ancient Night. They did 
not pursue Clytaminestra, because she was of different family 
from Agamemnon ; but to exact vengeance for a deed of 
blood, like that which the son had done upon the mother, is 
the object of their existence. That is their office and their 
prerogative, and the whole world would be out of joint if they 
did not fulfil it. When Apollo takes the part of the wretched 
man, whom his oracular reply has induced to brave this dan- 
ger, their wrath is aroused against the new gods, by whom 
they are robbed of the honor due to them, and whose new- 
fangled laws are to upset the ancient order of the world. 
They refuse to give way to Apollo, though he appeals to Zeus, 
or to Pallas, with whom Orestes has taken refuge, though they 
recognize her wisdom. Who, then, is to decide between the 
justice of the primeval world and the decrees of the new gods, 
between the violation of the marriage tie, which is the prov- 
ince of the latter, and the violation of filial duty, over which 
the former preside? Strange to say, ^EscbyluS lays the deci- 
sion before a human tribunal. The votes are equally divided, 
but the goddess in whose hands the right to decide in such a 
case is acknowledged to lie gives her vote for Orestes. Ills 
cause is also that of the gods themselves: the ground of the 
verdict is the will of Zeus alone. A still more important 
point, treated with such detail as to show clearly the weight 
attached to it by the poet, is that the Erinyes, though on this 
occasion they are balked of their prey, are to be revered for 
all future time. No house, it is agreed, can prosper without 
them, and the lot of the man who does them honor will be 
blessed. 

These are scenes out of the conflict between things human 
and divine, between the powers of nature, which have a moral 
weight, and laws, which have a later origin. It is these laws 
which get the upper hand. The gods are powers which must 
be acknowledged and revered, because they have jurisdiction 
over men, and can confer blessings on them if they will. 



294 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

.zEschylus leads us into the thick of the struggle, which Pin- 
dar looks back upon after its close. The ideal of ^Eschylus 
is activity and courage. The ideal of Pindar is rest and glory 
when the prize is won. 

The dramatic poet and his audience, which in this case is 
the people, constantly act and react upon each other. The 
thoughts which ^Eschylus expressed gain a peculiar historical 
value from the fact that they were understood and echoed by 
the people. But he had at last to discover that he was no 
longer in sympathy with them. The judges chosen out of 
the ten tribes adjudged the prize to a younger rival, Sopho- 
cles, who was his junior by thirty years. The spirit of the 
age was ripe for a change in the mode of representation as 
well as in the subjects represented on the stage. 

4. Sophocles. 

In Sophocles I do not discover that severance between the 
gods and the powers of the primeval world of which JEschy- 
lus is so full. Such thoughts as these are alien to his age and 
to its views of life. Nor, again, do I discover any actual con- 
flict with the gods, such as that undertaken by the Seven or by 
other heroes in JEschylus. The utmost to which the charac- 
ters of Sophocles can be incited is a sort of defiant trust in 
their own powers ; such, for instance, as appears in Aias. But 
great destinies are not affected by this conduct: they are in- 
dependent of all human interference. 

In the drama of " (Edipus Bex " no guilt rests upon the 
king. There is no mention even of any earlier crime which 
might be still crying for vengeance. (Edipus is a king, who 
has been elected because he freed the city from the hideous 
toll exacted by the Sphinx. He enjoys the fullest reverence 
as the first of men, universally trusted in all kinds of difficul- 
ties. "When the troubles begin he distinguishes himself nobly 
by his care for the community in general, and for every in- 
dividual among his subjects. But a fate impends of which 
he knows nothing. The royal house of Thebes, when evil is 
foretold by the oracle, does all in its power to hinder its ful- 
filment, but by these very efforts bring about the disaster they 
would avoid. The mother exposes her son ; the son, arrived 



SOPHOCLES. 295 

at manhood, flees from his supposed parents : yet each helps 
to fulfil his destiny. The tragedy of (Edipus is full of living 
dramatic interest. (Edipus, conscious of perfect innocence, 
and asserting that innocence in terms of passionate indigna- 
tion, seeks to discover the secret of the evil by which the 
city is oppressed. He searched far and wide until the hid- 
eous truth is known, and an act revealed on which the sun 
ought never to have shone, and which no water can wash 
away. Happiness, genuine happiness, turns to misery and 
tears, and (Edipus is forced to regard himself as the man of 
all others most hateful to the gods. He puts out his own 
eyes in order to escape from the community of earthly things 
and creatures. The ordinances of nature, which appear in 
Sophocles as the ordinances of the gods, have been violated 
by his birth. They can only be restored by his annihila- 
tion. 

It is equally impossible to discover any guilt worthy of 
punishment in Deianeira and Heracles. The "Trachinise," as 
the piece is called, ends with an outspoken indictment of the 
gods. In this play, too, there hangs over all the shadow of 
a terrible fate, which is brought to pass by the very effort to 
avoid it. The slaying of the centaur Nessus, on which every- 
thing turns, cannot be regarded as a guilty deed ; for his 
death was but the punishment which he deserved. As little 
can the connection of Heracles with Iole be regarded in this 
light, for that would be opposed to Greek ideas. The ap- 
proach of fate reveals no cause of misfortune except a terri- 
ble destiny. It would be a mistake to say that in all cases 
guilt must be forthcoming to account for the course of events, 
for destiny accomplishes itself independently of such justifi- 
cation. It was one of the merits of Heracles that he rid 
the world of a centaur at once violent and lustful. But the 
slain centaur leaves a legacy behind him, in consequence of 
which the hero who chastised him is doomed to perish. There 
is no moral lesson to be learned here ; the gods see the ap- 
proach of fate, but do not defend even their own offspring 
from the blow. 

In the " Aias" the insulted goddess goes so far as to drive 
the hero into madness, to make his life intolerable to him, 



290 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

and afterwards to boast of the deed. Nor can we sec any 
sufficient cause for the woes of Philoctetes. The only reason 
why he should linger for nine long years in agony and soli- 
tude is that Troy is not to be taken till the tenth. There is 
no severance here between the gods and fate. On the con- 
trary, these powers have struck a terrible alliance, to which 
men can only submit. " In all that happens there is nothing 
in which the highest divinity does not play a part." Nor 
can we doubt that these views corresponded to the received 
opinions of the day. There is no choice but submission to 
the gods, whose sway is unapproachable and absolute. The 
oracles have a dread reality ; their responses are universally 
believed, however unexpected their fulfilment may be. 

The poet, convinced of the nothingness of human existence, 
believes in the necessity of submission, and considers it his 
duty to confirm the people in the same belief. But the stage 
would become intolerable if all its efforts were directed only 
to display the development of fate. Such is by no means the 
intention of Sophocles : he prefers to lay the chief stress upon 
the bearing of a man when he meets his end. (Edipns dis- 
plays the elevation of a noble resolve originating in self-abhor- 
rence. Aias, who at one time seems inclined to submit, puts 
an end to his own life, and prepares for the deed in a solilo- 
quy of unequalled grandeur. In the " Trachiniea " the psy- 
chological motive of the play is to be found in the character 
of Deianeira, who, though not devoured by jealousy, seeks to 
secure her husband's affections by means to all appearance 
harmless, but, at the very moment when she comes to this 
decision, begins again to doubt, and perishes before the man 
whose death she has occasioned. 

Sophocles always weaves one or other of the strongest mo- 
tives of personal life into his tragedies. In the "Trachiniai" 
it is the affection of a wife, in the "(Edipus at Colonus" the 
affection of a daughter. In the " Antigone " is displayed a 
sister's love, in the " Aias " the manly and successful devo- 
tion of a brother. Sophocles possessed one advantage over 
iEschylus in being able to employ a third actor, the so-called 
Tritagonist. He was thus enabled to give more distinctness 
to his characters, and to place them in all their variety and 



SOPHOCLES. 297 

individuality before our eyes. The special merit of this poet 
consists in his complete illustration of the hidden but simple 
motives of human action. 

In the " Antigone " as well as in the " Electra " we are re- 
minded of iEschylus. In the first of these two pieces, as in 
vEschylus, the rights of Dike, of the under-world, and of the 
Erinyes appear inviolable. But in Sophocles Zeus and Dike 
are allied. The contradiction which disturbs the world makes 
its appearance in Creon. He can hardly be charged with in- 
justice in aiming a stern command against the man who has 
marched with hostile intent upon the city of his fathers. But 
by this severity he offends the eternal and unapproachable 
powers. lie refuses burial to the dead, though Hades has a 
sort of right to demand it. He displays his cruelty in con- 
demning to death the sister who has performed the ceremony 
of burial in spite of his prohibition, although she belongs to 
the gods of the upper and visible world. His son, to whom 
the maiden is betrothed, is thereupon brought on the stage, 
and his character portrayed in rapid touches. Full as he is 
of respect for paternal authority, sympathy for his mistress 
drives him into suicide. The character of Antigone, in which 
reverence for the divine, haughty resentment against the pow- 
ers that be, and graceful maidenly reserve are mingled, is, 
indeed, inimitable. Her act has public opinion on its side, 
though that opinion hardly dares to make itself heard. It 
receives approval from the retainers of the house, and last of 
all from the blind seer, who appears as the interpreter of the 
laws of Heaven. Creon accomplishes his own ruin by resist- 
ing all persuasion till it is too late. 

Sophocles keeps ./Eschylus nowhere more clearly before 
his eyes than in the " Electra." The subject is the same as 
that of the " Choephoroe." The most prominent motive which 
serves to bring on the development, namely, the dream of 
Clytaemnestra and her consequent resolution to make an of- 
fering to the shade of the murdered man, is borrowed from 
^Eschylus, together with the false report of the death of 
Orestes. But in spite of this similarity a profound difference 
is throughout apparent. The threads are cut short just at 
the point where they are connected with the great whole 



298 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

which ./Eschylns has in his mind. There is no mention here 
of the Furies who in iEschylus seize upon Orestes. In the 
dream that Agamemnon's sceptre puts forth fresh buds the 
act of Orestes is prefigured as a reassertion of his hereditary 
rights. No trace is to be found in Sophocles of that contrast 
between the murder of yEgisthus and the murder of Clytsem- 
nestra which forms the very foundation of the earlier play. 
The poet approves the act, and regards it as an act of justice. 
The main interest of the play centres in the character of 
Electra. She it was who saved Orestes, and this act subjects 
her to treatment of the most oppressive nature, which seems 
likely to end in something worse. Still she refuses to sub- 
mit: she impersonates wisdom and goodness attacked by evil. 
From fear of Zeus she keeps to what is lawful, but she is on 
the point of resolving to attempt the deed of vengeance, when 
the brother whom she believed to be dead appears. Sophocles 
takes great pains to develop in detail the character of Electra 
in her relation to her sister, her mother, and her brother. At 
the moment when the latter is about to do the deed she in- 
cites him, with masculine and even cruel vehemence, to carry 
out his purpose. To accomplish her revenge she uses deceit, 
and mingles her deceit with savage irony. She is the very 
daughter of Clytammestra as she appears in the "Agamem- 
non" of ./Eschylns. 

Resistance to tyrannical power is altogether a peculiar ele- 
ment in Sophocles. It appears in Aias, in Harmon and Teire- 
sias, in (Edipus, and most of all in Antigone. The contrast 
between eternal justice and a law which is the offspring of 
caprice is nowhere more clearly marked than in Sophocles. 
The spirit of these plays is directly opposed to the unmiti- 
gated dominion of political interests, which combine force and 
fraud, while sufferings due to such a cause acquire a special 
character and arouse the most intense sympathy. Creon in 
"(Edipus Ilex' 1 is a figure worth examining from this point 
of view. The difference between the personal influence of 
a man in high position and mere official authority is aptly 
pointed out, and the preference given to the former. What 
gives the play of " Philoctetes " its special meaning is the 
fact that Neoptolemus, after promising Odysseus at the out- 



SOPHOCLES. 299 

set that he will employ craft and cunning to obtain the end 
which they have in view, returns to his better self and to the 
law of humanity, and refuses to serve in such a cause. lie is 
a young man of frank and open character, who abhors the 
ways of secrecy. In the same spirit the seer tells (Edipus 
that he is not in the service of the king, but in the service 
of God. The reverence due to the state and the reverence 
due to God are here opposed to each other, and urge their 
respective claims as they do throughout the whole of history. 
Sophocles constantly reveres the unwritten laws of the gods. 
Olympus is their father ; they are begotten in the everlasting 
tether ; they are not the mere offspring of human intelli- 
gence, nor can they ever be forgotten. 

It is, perhaps, only the ancient quarrel renewed upon an- 
other field. It becomes clearer and more instructive by being 
brought down into the region of the human from that of the 
divine, and represented as a conflict between the moral powers 
and the empire of the day. The poet's voice is always raised 
in behalf of the established political system, of those ideas on 
which the fabric of society rests, on the reverence due to the 
gods : on these things none may lay his hand. But the at- 
mosphere of thought is already imbued with political feeling. 
When Menelaus was honored in Sparta as a Spartan hero, 
and Aias in Athens as an Athenian, it cannot be mere chance 
that they are opposed to each other in the play, and that 
Menelaus, expressly called a king of Sparta, is portrayed in 
so disadvantageous a light. The subject of the " GMipus at 
Colonus" is the contrast between Thebes, which banishes her 
king, and Athens, which receives him and provides him with 
a grave. The religious feeling and prudent moderation that 
distinguish Athens are represented as the sources of her gran- 
deur and success. Theseus is a highly gifted and kingly nat- 
ure ; his conduct is rewarded by promises which foretell the 
safety and future greatness of Athens. But, while touching 
this string, the poet is only the more eager to adorn the death 
of the ill-fated G^dipus with all the graces of dramatic repre- 
sentation. The conflict of his soul, between love for the 
daughters who tend him and hatred for the son who has ex- 
pelled him, is at once elevated and terrible. The political 



300 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

relatione are overshadowed by the ideal representation of a 
tragic fate, and are forgotten by the spectator. 

In these plays Hie narratives are especially successful, but 
the dialogue vies with them in its argumentative power, while 
the soaring flight of the ohorio odes is not to be excelled. 
The language of Sophocles is the most solid, the purest, the 
must beautiful which has ever served to express the emo- 
tions of the human spirit. 

5. Euripides, 

Euripides was too young to strive with JEschylus for the 
dramatio prize; his immediate predecessor and rival was 

Sophocles. Twelve years after the appearance of the latter, 

Euripides, then twenty-live years old, brought his first piece 

upon the Stage. The extant plays of these two dramatists 

are nearly contemporary, beginning with the date H<> b.o. in 

the one case, and with l.".s b.o. in the other. The greater part 
of them were brought out during the time of the Peloponne- 

sian war. 

Euripides, like his predecessors, seized upon the material 
supplied by the Legends of gods and heroes, in which the 
nation had enshrined its ideas of heavenly and earthly things. 

In the way in which he approaches the question he is far 
removed from /Eschylus, Like Sophocles and Pindar, lie re- 
gards the Olympian gods as absolute rulers, lie says nothing 
of the Struggle between the gods and the powers of nature, or 
of the contrast, between a dominant hut. artificial order of the 
world and the physical and intellectual forces, which have 

sucoumbed in the conflict, l'ut if we would obtain a definite 

idea of his peculiar mode of thought, which was, or, at least, 

became, the thought of his age, we must, not shun the labor 
of examining In detail the internal composition of his plays. 

What appears as an exception in the ''Aias 1 ' <>( Bophooles 
— namely, the personal share taken by the goddess In the 
hero's misfortunes is in Euripides the rule. Pheedra falls in 

love with llippolvtus, as Aphrodite confesses, by her advice. 

It is Hera by whom Heracles, having performed the tasks 

laid upon him by Kurvstheus, is driven into madness: Iris 

herself brings Lyssa, the daughter of Night, to destroy him. 



EUBIPIDE8, 803 

The destinies of [phigeoeia and Macaria arc what they are 
because offerings have to be made to Artemis : 1 1 1 « 1 to Deme 
ter. Achilles himself appears as a god when be restrains the 
Grecian ships on the eve of their departure from Troy till 
Polyxena is sacrificed in bis honor. Neoptolemus has to die 
for the insult he lias done to Apollo, be his repentance ho 
• hep as it will ; at the critical moment a voire from the in- 
most, shrine demands ln's death. That Apollo is the author 
Of all the ills which fall upon the head of OrCStCS is more 

harshly apparent here than even in iEschylus. 

The chid' motive; in the tragedy of Knripidcs is, in fact, the 

personal hatred of the k o, ' s - 5 et this hatred has do further 
justification; it provokes no real resistance; it merely deter 
mines the lot of men. It is of essential importance that the 

event;; of the play are introduced by a prologue, and that the. 

catastrophe is brought about l»y the sudden appearance of a 

god. I let ween these two points the heroes move to and fro 
in human wise ; but with all their impulses, their passions, 

their virtues, ami their thoughts they exercise no decisive in* 

fiuence on the event. 

These conditions lend to some of the plays of Knripides, 
for instance, the " Troades," ;in inexhawstihle charm. The 
Subject of this play is the allotment of the c;iptivc women 
after the eoinpiesf of Troy and the slaughter of the one SUr 
vivin^ scion of the royal house win* might he expected to at- 
tempt the restoration of the city. The Greeks perform the 
work of destruction with the strictest logical completene . 

J > ii t, with happy intuition, Knripides extends the scope of his 
prologue on this occasion far heyond the point to which fin; 
Spectator is led in the drama itself. Prophecies of evil to 
come make themselves heard through all the din of victory, 
and one is made aware that these cruel conquerors are t hem- 
Helves doomed to destruction. Nothing can he more im« 

IVC than tin; hymeneal ode which ('assandra sin^s for 

herself. Sh<; has the inspired conviction that if is through 

his union with her that tin; destroyer is to he destroyed. 

Euripides took Ids model from tin; complete destruction of 
conquered cities, which in Greece was the order of the day, and 

in which many a woman must have shared the fate of I J em ha. 



302 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

In Euripides I am especially struck by the contrast be- 
tween barbarians and Hellenes, agreeing in the main with 
the conception of that contrast which we rind in Herodotus. 
It appears in the " Mcdcia," in the " Iphigeneia in Tauris," 
and even in those pieces which are taken from the cycle of 
Trojan legend. Euripides reckons even the Trojans as bar- 
barians. They arc distinguished by looser modes of thought, 
by more splendid clothing, by unconditional obedience to 
their lords, by a certain coarseness of character. Between 
them and the Hellenes no friendship can exist. The object 
with which the Greeks sail to Troy is that they may strike a 
blow at barbarism. 

Euripides does not take the trouble to adapt his plays to 
the past times of the heroic world, but transfers to his heroes 
the conditions which he sees before his eyes. Several of his 
dramatic complications rest upon mistakes in which the art of 
writing is concerned. Theseus and Heracles talk philosophy 
about the nature of the gods. Euripides transplants not only 
the political but the domestic conditions of his day into the 
heroic world, and in handling great destinies he develops the 
sentiments of each member of the different families. In the 
play of ^Eschylus on the war against Thebes the whole stress 
is laid upon the disposition of Eteocles alone. But Euripides 
in the u Phosnissffi " brings the mother on the stage, though 
according to other tradition she had long been dead, and rep- 
resents her as trying to reconcile the unnatural brothers. In 
the " Orestes" the uncle and his restored spouse interfere with 
decisive effect ; the aged Tyndarcus and the whole royal 
house appear. So, too, in the " Andromache" Peleus is con- 
trasted with his obstinate grauddaughter-in-law, while in the 
"Iphigeneia in Aulis" we see father and uncle, mother and 
bridegroom, play their different parts. 

The play of " Electra," in spite of the lofty and mythical 
nature of its subject, gives one almost the impression of a 
tragedy of domestic life. Electra is living in virgin wedlock ; 
in her home the scene of the whole play is laid. Mythical 
tone and color are sacriiied to a less ambitious realism. Both 
Sophocles and Euripides represent Electra as at strife with 
Clytaminestra, but while the former lays stress upon the idea 



EURIPIDES. 303 

of justice, the latter dwells on the one hand on the connection 
between Agamemnon and Cassandra, and on the other on the 
cruel treatment of Clytoemnestra's children, resulting from 
her marriage with ./Egisthus. Regarding affairs from this 
point of view, it is not surprising that Euripides should have 
framed a sort of domestic philosophy : at any rate we find 
constantly in him reflections of a domestic kind which may 
be worked into a consistent scheme. 

Domestic feeling is the groundwork of the " Medeia " and 
the " Phrcdra," which may be regarded as his most successful 
plays. Medeia may well be compared with the Deianeira of 
Sophocles, but while the latter only seeks to secure her hus- 
band's affections Medeia directs all her fury against her rival 
and her own children. She has no desire to kill Jason ; all 
that she wishes to compass is the ruin of his happiness. The 
future bliss he aims at building up for himself, in despite and 
in contempt of his former love, fills her soul with savage reso- 
lution. There is nothing in the range of poetry at once more 
pregnant and more terrible than the farewell which Medeia 
takes of her children. It cannot be called a mental conflict, 
for she has no doubts ; she is fully conscious of her love for 
her children, and expresses it with the utmost warmth, but 
her fury and her hate are stronger still, and she sacrifices her 
offspring in spite of all her love, like the barbaric lioness she 
is. As to the " Pluedra," it has long ago been pointed out 
how far the development of passion is carried in that play be- 
yond all possibility of imitation in later times. 

Euripides, with all his defects, is one of the most powerful 
and inventive poets that have ever lived. There is no single 
piece of his which did not charm the spectator with the 
glamour of some thrilling situation. To the rich material of 
heroic legend, which was employed by his predecessors, he 
added the cycle of myths that centred round Heracles, and 
made it completely his own. In all that he writes he seeks 
to bring into prominence some human interest, and especially 
those points which give rise to a conflict of passions. The 
innocence of youthful manhood engaged in the service of the 
temple, or its fresh and manly courage displayed in field 
sports and the chase, maidenly self-sacrifice to a great idea, as 



30± PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

in Iphigeneia and Polyxcna, or -svifely devotion for a hus- 
band, as in Alkestis, are portrayed in touches as imperishable 
as those which illustrate the pangs of jealousy or the fury of 
passion. 

I know not if Euripides attained to what the theory of 
tragedy demands ; he was, at any rate, a poet of the keenest 
sensibility and the greatest talent, which he employed with 
infinite success. During his lifetime the fame and popularity 
of his works had reached to Sicily. They spread gradually 
through the whole circumference of the Greek and after- 
wards of the Roman world, either directly or b} r means of 
imitations. It has been justly remarked that they form one 
of the most important elements of later culture, and it is cer- 
tain that they have contributed not a little to mould existing 
opinion. 

We shall therefore be justified in alluding once more to 
the phase of religious thought to which they give expression. 
Euripides sides with Pindar, who refused to believe in the 
feast of Tantalus. His Iphigeneia says that they must have 
been murderous wretches who laid such things to the charge 
of the gods. In the conversation between Theseus and Her- 
acles, to which allusion has already been made, the one is 
highly offended by the marriage of brother and sister in the 
case of Zeus and Hera, and by the chaining of Kronos, while 
the other holds these stories to be mere poetical inventions. 

But it is not so eas} r to explain away the immoral acts of 
the gods when, as generally happens, they arc of the essence 
of the piece. In such cases mankind, who suffer at the hands 
of the gods, show no scruple in blaming them. Even the 
pious Ion is offended when they who make the laws refuse to 
keep the laws. He attacks the sanctuary which guarantees 
impunity to the transgressor. In the "Andromache" Apollo 
is accused of acting like an evil man, in whom an old quarrel 
rankles still. In the "Ilippolytus" we are told that it is 
through boldness and violence, and not through piety, that 
man accomplishes his end. In the " Bellerophon " we are 
told that the weak, however pious they may be, have to sub- 
mit to the strong. " There are no gods," he exclaims; "they 
have no existence." 



IIEItODOTUS AND TIIUKYDIDES. 305 

It is clear that only a philosophical spirit like this could 
free itself from the trammels of a traditional religion, often 
indistinguishable from superstition. As Heracles says, in the 
place alluded to above, " the God who is verily God has 
no wants." Euripides is in doubt whether we are to find the 
necessity of things in God or in the human spirit. " Custom 
and law lead us to recognize the existence of the gods, but 
right and wrong owe their distinction to men." Nothing can 
be more opposed to the idea of the Eumenides, as conceived 
by ^Eschylus, than the declaration of Orestes in the play of 
Euripides that it was his evil conscience that pursued him, 
and that he was fully aware of what he had done. Justice is 
the daughter of Time ; in due course she brings all wicked- 
ness to light. Earth and heaven begat all things; the earthly 
returns to earth, the immaterial to heaven. The happiest 
man is he who beholds the universal laws which rule imper- 
ishable things. 

One may fairly say that, by this kind of treatment, legen- 
dary heroic history, the great intellectual possession of the 
nation, was shaken to its foundations and all but destroyed. 
It would have been better to portray men directly, as they 
appeared in real life, than to transplant them, with all their 
actions and their omissions, into the heroic world. After such 
changes as these philosophy and history had become indis- 
pensable. 

6. Herodotus and Thukydides. 

Herodotus and Thukydides stand in much the same chron- 
ological relation to each other as Sophocles and Euripides. 
Herodotus was the elder of the two : according to an ancient 
calculation, often disputed but never displaced by any sounder 
hypothesis, he was fifty-three years old, and Thukydides forty, 
at the beginning of the Peloponne&ian war. But the situa- 
tions and fortunes of the two men who laid the foundations 
of historical science and historical composition w T ere widely 
different, or rather were diametrically opposed. 

Herodotus was born on the coast of Asia, in a city which 
stood in close commercial and political connection with the 
Oriental peoples to the examination of whose history he 

20 



30G PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

naturally devoted part of his life. Thence he migrated to 
Samos, the great metropolis of trade, and afterwards to 
Athens, then at the climax of her maritime power. He was 
a stranger in Athens, but he attached himself to the Athe- 
nians with his whole heart and with warm admiration. Thu- 
kydides, on the contrary, was a born Athenian. A man of 
distinguished birth, he had attained to one of the most impor- 
tant posts in the state, the independent command of a naval 
squadron. But he was on one occasion unfortunate enough 
to allow the Peloponnesians to forestall him, and to occu- 
py Amphipolis about twenty-four hours before he arrived. 
Through this failure he forfeited the favor of the Athenian 
people, at that time under the headlong guidance of a demo- 
cratic leader. He was punished by exile, and passed the rest 
of his life on an hereditary property which belonged to him, 
partly under the protection of the Lakedcemonians. This 
misfortune enabled him to undertake, under peculiarly advan- 
tageous conditions, the history of the war, a project which he 
had already formed at the beginning of the struggle. No 
longer confined to the reports and narratives that passed cur- 
rent in his native city, he was able to form a fair notion and 
to give an impartial account of the course of affairs. Though 
an exile, his natural impulse was still to give the preference 
to Athens; though an Athenian, he had nevertheless good 
ground for regarding the proceedings of his countrymen with- 
out any one-sided patriotism. 

No less important is the second distinction between these 
two great authors. Herodotus spent his life in watching the 
mighty conflict between Persia and Greece, which, as he 
wrote, occupied the attention of the world. Thukydides was 
drawn into the thick of the struggle among the Greeks them- 
selves, and especially that between Athens and Sparta. It is 
true that the internal rivalries of Greece are mentioned by 
Herodotus, while the conflict between Greeks and Persians is 
referred to by Thukydides, but in Herodotus the former, in 
Thukydides the latter, is kept in the background. Herodotus 
bestowed especial attention on the joint effort abroad, Thu- 
kydides on the internecine conflict at home. 

Herodotus was primarily a traveller. His native city, Hali- 



HERODOTUS. 307 

carnassnS) took part in founding the commercial settlement at 
Naucratis, through which the trade with Egypt was thrown 
open to the Greeks. One may suppose that it was this con- 
nection which first attracted the gaze of Herodotus to Egypt, 
and which afterwards secured him a favorable reception in 
that country even when the connection had ceased to exist. 
lie was the first foreigner who bestowed on the monuments 
of Egypt the attention they deserved ; he visited Phoenicia 
and beheld the wonders of Babylon ; by the great road which 
leads from Ephesus to Sardis, and from Sardis to Susa, he 
penetrated to the interior of the Persian empire, and went as 
far as Ecbatana. And yet the East did not draw him into the 
circle of her votaries, as some time afterwards she attracted 
Ctcsias. Herodotus never shut his eyes to the superiority of 
the Greeks, and never forgot that lie was a Greek himself. 
His descriptions of the coasts and landscapes of Greece are so 
accurate that it is easy to perceive he must have seen most of 
them with his own eyes. In Athens he felt himself, as it 
were, at home,* for his native city, while paying tribute to 
the Great King, had a close political connection with Athens. 

* It cannot be doubted that Herodotus about the year 444 spent a 
considerable time at Athens. Hence, perhaps, we may explain certain 
verses in the " Antigone " of Sophocles which imply an acquaintance with 
the works and views of Herodotus. In accordance with this is the notice 
in Eusebius (" Chron." sub. Olymp. 83, 4=445-4 B.C.) that Herodotus had 
read his history publicly in Athens and been honored there. Now an 
ancient historian named Diyllus, not without value as respects Athenian 
history, relates that Herodotus received ten talents, by vote of the ecclesia, 
from the city of Athens. We are not told the reason of this gift, which 
may have been by way of compensation for losses incurred in leaving 
Ilalicarnassus, or by way of assistance, as ho was about to go with a 
colony to Thurii. It certainly cannot have been intended as payment for 
flattering views of Athenian policy to be inserted in his history. In the 
book irepi rijc ' U poSorov KaKoi]9ealc, attributed to Plutarch, through which 
we know of this passage from Diyllus, a protest is made against such a 
supposition, on the ground that there is much in the history of Berodotus 
which must have displeased the Athenians. This little work is very un- 
just to Herodotus, and excessively calumnious, but it declares outright 
that the hypothesis in question is a slander : ruvro ftoiiOn T i[i 'RpoSdry irpbq 
yctivqv T))v diufioXi'/v, )}v tx° l KoXaKtiiaar rove 'A&rjvaiovr, upyvpiov iroXv \afte~tv 
Trap' avTwv (chap. 20). 



30S PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

Tims Herodotus obtained a personal acquaintance with all the 
districts which made up the civilized world of his day. He 
was led to visit them by an innate impulse towards self- 
instruction, and we can easily see how his zeal for knowledge 
attended him from place to place. 

The work in which Herodotus put together the results of 
his inquiries forms in itself an clement in the history of the 
century. In the author's mind are reflected all sorts of 
national peculiarities, for wherever he went he made inquiries 
about the country and the people, and the reports he obtained 
lie side by side in his book. The ethnographical information 
which we owe to him is of itself of great value, but its im- 
portance is doubled by the historical element with which it is 
woven into a single whole. 

His informants, of course, knew little of the past beyond 
the memory of living men. It is easy to perceive from his 
remarks about the Assyrian empire that Herodotus, anxious 
as he was to write about Assyrian history, was but slightly 
instructed on the matter. Had he known more about it he 
would have considerably moditied his notions about the con- 
nection between Egypt and Assyria under the Saitic dynasty. 
But the fact was that Assyria had already been forgotten by 
the contemporaries of Herodotus, whose recollections were 
absorbed by the rise of Persia and by the undertakings of the 
Persian kings. As to the origin of the Persian empire noth- 
ing but legendary reports existed, which Herodotus transmits 
to us in the shape in which he received them from the Per- 
sians and Egyptians. 

On the other hand, the hostile collision of Persia and 
Greece was fresh in the memory of all. The great decisive 
battles had long been fought, and Herodotus can hardly have 
had any personal recollection of them, but their effects were 
still perceptible and determined the mutual relations of the 
East and the Grecian world. The forces on both sides had 
all been set in motion by that conflict, and measured against 
each other. On the Persian invasion of Greece, its failure, 
and the measures of retaliation taken by the Greeks, rested 
the existing condition of the world. These events then formed 
another subject for the inquiries of Herodotus. To combine 



HERODOTUS. 309 

them with the rest of his information and to present the 
whole in its proper connection was the worthiest aim that he 
conld set before him. The result was the first real history 
that was ever written. History conld not grow up on national 
ground alone, for it is not till they come into contact with one 
another that nations become conscious of their own existence. 
It is then, too, that a writer of wide sympathies can do jus- 
tice, as Herodotus does, to both the conflicting nationalities. 
Herodotus has no hatred for the barbarians, or he would 
not have taken pains to depict them. He has often been 
accused of partiality towards Athens. The favorable judg- 
ment he passes on her conduct in the Persian war has been 
attributed to personal motives. But I am not inclined to 
agree with this view. The famous passage in which he points 
out that the salvation of Greece was due to the resolution of 
the Athenians to defend themselves by sea is strictly and 
clearly true. The facts are as Herodotus states them. The no- 
tion he had formed of what would be} T ond all doubt have taken 
place, had not the Athenians acted as they did, inspired him 
to write that passage, which, regarded as a piece of historical 
and political criticism, is perhaps the best in the whole work. 
Not only is there an incomparable charm in the graceful 
simplicity with which Herodotus relates separate events, but 
he possesses also a sympathetic insight into the relations of 
universal history. His work has never been equalled, much 
less excelled, in the grandeur of its combinations. At the 
same time it cannot, of course, be said to satisfy all the condi- 
tions of a perfect historical work. All that Herodotus tells 
us rests on oral tradition, and the main subject of his book is 
an event which took place several decades before, with which 
he was acquainted only at second-hand, and for which trust- 
worthy authorities were not everywhere to be found. An- 
other service had yet to be performed — the presentation of an 
event which had actually taken place before the author's eyes. 
Such a narrative could afford to dispense with oral tradition 
respecting earlier epochs, which always rests upon a basis com- 
paratively insecure. For the charm of a general survey of 
past times was now to be substituted a minute and accurate 
description of contemporary events. 



310 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

Herein lies the great merit of Thukydides. The subject 
of his work is not a struggle embracing the whole area of the 
known world, but a conilict between two republics, each in 
its way of the highest importance. From the moment when 
their smouldering resentment broke into open hostility Thu- 
kydides watched the course of the struggle with the full in- 
tention of describing what he saw. 

The tasks which Herodotus and Thukydidcs respectively 
performed arc of so inconsistent a nature that they could not 
have been executed by one man. Their execution required 
two authors of different character and different gifts. Each 
of these historians expresses views corresponding to his cir- 
cumstances and his time. In his commerce with different 
nationalities, during which he always paid special attention to 
religious matters, Herodotus conceived ideas unlike those 
which passed current among the Greeks. As an historian he 
raises objections to the fabulous stories about the gods. In 
his opinion the ancient Pelasgians, and after them the Ilel- 
Lenes, used to worship the gods without distinction of name. 
The names of the gods were afterwards introduced from 
Egypt into Greece. The historian Avas informed at Dodona 
that the oracle had once been formal!}' asked whether these 
names should be recognized, and had approved their recogni- 
tion ; that in later times Homer and Ilesiod had attached 
titles to the gods, determined their respective occupations, 
and invented the theogony ; but that all this was, so to speak, 
a thing of yesterday ; at all events not to be compared in 
respect of antiquity with the ancient faith of the Egyptians. 

Not only had Herodotus visited Dodona, but he was also 
acquainted with the Eleusinian mysteries, and had been initi- 
ated into those of the Cabeiri in Lemnos. With respect to 
the latter he imposes silence on himself, but now and then he 
hints that, behind the belief in the gods, which the ceremo- 
nies implied, there was something which he neither could nor 
would divulge. This does not, however, lead him to deny 
the existence of gods and heroes. On the contrary, he is 
afraid that his remarks about them may arouse their animos- 
ity. If he disputes the truth of a story about Heracles, he 
begs the gods and heroes to pardon his presumption. It ap- 



HERODOTUS. 311 

pears, therefore, that he has no doubts about the existence 
and the reality of the gods. But he repeats the doctrine that 
even they cannot escape from fate, which lies, according to 
him, beyond their control. He enters into no details respect- 
ing the dealings of particular gods, but he recognizes the ex- 
istence of a divine power, which exerts a constant and pene- 
trating influence on human affairs. 

With respect to this influence, two ideas of Herodotus call 
for special notice. On the one hand, the gods give their sup- 
port to courage and understanding, but on the other they pur- 
sue with a sort of envy all that is pre-eminent. Any one who 
reads Herodotus attentively for some little time, and surren- 
ders himself to the general impression produced as the author 
passes from one point to another, will perceive the one con- 
stant element to be a belief in the direct interference of the 
Deity. Herodotus venerates the gods as beings of real po- 
tency, revenging themselves on the man who insults them, 
even unintentionally, announcing their will by means of ora- 
cles, and accomplishing it without fail. Such was the belief 
of iEschylus, such, in the main, the belief of Euripides, who 
upbraids the gods with their acts of injustice and violence. 
The gods, indeed, rule the human world, but their power is 
not absolute. We see traces of a yet deeper and older relig- 
ion in the idea of Nemesis, wdiom Herodotus recognizes even 
where men in general fail to perceive her power. 

The divergence between the religious views of Herodotus 
and those of Thukydides has attracted attention from early 
times. This divergence does not amount to a direct contra- 
diction,* for this would have implied the resuscitation of those 

* The locus classicus (Herod, i. 22), in which a writer as early as Lucian 
fancied he found cause to blame Herodotus, can be explained as having 
no reference to religion. It may be regarded simply as the expression 
of an historical conviction with respect to the course of human affairs, 
and the writer does not appear to have had any doctrinal end in view. 
In the passage of Lucian referred to the author's own opinion is the most 
important matter. He transcribes only the words that suit his views, 
and explains them in his own way (ttwq M loropiav ovyypdQuv, chap. 42). 
One cannot help being reminded at this point of the story of Herodotus's 
public reading at Olympia. I hold it to be an invention of the rhetori- 



312 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

ideas of antiquity about the gods which were rejected by He- 
rodotus. But Thukydides was under the influence of the uni- 
versal tendency to which wc find the poets giving expression, 
and by means of which faith in the gods was undermined or 
even destroyed. Like the poets, he recognized something di- 
vine pervading human things. He complains that men com- 
bine together not to maintain the laws of God, but to break 
them. He speaks with disapproval of a growing want of piety. 
But lie shows no trace of the idea that the gods interfere di- 
rectly in human affairs. It is true that he does not deny the 
authority of oracles in so many words — he even adduces evi- 
dence which might be held to justify a belief in prophecy ; 
but, with regard to such matters, he constantly maintains a 
sceptical attitude. For example, when an earthquake in Lak- 
edcemon is attributed to the violation of a sanctuary, to which 
some Helots had fled for refuge, he relates the fact, but with- 
out giving the slightest hint that he believes in the explana- 
tion, lie was not unaffected by the growth of natural sci- 
ence. It is with a certain irony that he mentions the belief 
of the inhabitants of Lipari that the smithy of Hephajstus 
was in their island. He has very different notions about the 
smoke which they see by day and the flames that ascend by 
night. If on any occasion natural phenomena are allowed to 
influence the decisions of mankind, he comments on the fact 
with disapproval. A characteristic example of this attitude 
of mind is to be found in his remarks on the curse which was 
supposed to be laid on the appropriation of the so-called Pe- 
lasgikon at Athens for the purpose of human habitation. He 
rejects the idea that subsequent misfortunes were due to dis- 
regard of this curse, and in the curse itself he sees nothing 
but a prevision that the spot would not be used for such a 
purpose except under disastrous circumstances. 

The real advance made by Thukydides consists, perhaps, 
in this, that he perceived the motive forces of human history 
to lie in the moral constitution of human nature. To estab- 

ciaus, of whom Lucian himself was one. These people travelled from 
town to town, lecturing as they went, and Herodotus is made out to 
have done the same. 



TI1UKYDIDES. 313 

lish this we need not have recourse to passages bearing on the 
subject which he weaves into his speeches, for these speeches 
are framed in accordance with the character of the speaker. 
But now and then he makes in his own person observations 
on human affairs. lie declares that such and such an event 
is due to the dominion of passion over human nature ; that 
men contemn what is right, and cannot bear anything supe- 
rior; that the furious longing for revenge is a still greater 
evil ; that the man who yields to such passions violates the 
very laws by which he is protected, and provokes his own de- 
struction, lie traces the origin of all disorder in the cities 
of Greece to the greed of those in power. It is generally, 
says he, nothing but a pretext when men talk of the blessings 
of moderate aristocracy or of democratic equality ; their in- 
tention is only to get the better of their opponents ; a virtu- 
ous reputation is of far less account than shrewdness and cun- 
ning. National misfortunes on the one side, and on the other 
complications resulting from war, give occasion for all such 
hypocrisy, and bring fresh evils in their train. 

Man himself, especially in his vices and his sufferings, is 
the central figure in the history of Thukydides. From this 
point of view he stands in much the same relation to Herodo- 
tus as that in which Euripides stands to Sophocles, or rather 
to iEschylus. But the change in the case of Thukydides is 
easier to justify than in the case of the poet, for, while trag- 
edy cannot be conceived as existing without fiction, history 
takes man himself for its subject. One of its essential condi- 
tions is that it should grasp human affairs as they are — should 
comprehend them, and make them intelligible. Thukydides 
strips off all that is legendary and fictitious, and claims special 
credit for having done his best to discover the truth about 
events exactly as they came to pass. The miraculous, which 
has such charm for Herodotus, disappears in Thukydides be- 
hind the unadorned fact. The tone of his narrative is some- 
times as simple as that of a chronicle ; it impresses one as at 
once trustworthy and intelligent. Although he owed his 
security to the Lakedtemonians, it is impossible to reproach 
him with Laconian proclivities. It was his nature to do jus- 
tice to both sides. Scrupulous adhesion to the simple truth, 



314 PHILOSOPHY AMD LITERATURE. 

and the confinement of his investigations to human projects, 
give to his history, for the short period of which it treats, a 
clearness of outline and a vividness of descriptive power which 
demand our highest admiration. 

The narrative of Thnkydides is throughout annalistic in 
character. Accurate chronology is especially to his taste; 
he arranges every event under the summer or winter in which 
it happened, lie includes in his survey many events which 
might seem to others unimportant, for his intention is to give 
an exact account of what took place. But in this chronolog- 
ical order are visible certain lines of development which, from 
time to time, are brought into prominence, so that the read- 
er's attention is constantly directed to what is general as well 
as to details. The merit of the narrative varies according to 
its subject. In one place Thnkydides relates all the political 
movements and discussions connected with the quarrel be- 
tween Argos and Lakedsemon in so monotonous a style that 
the story hardly awakens even a moderate interest. Then 
comes the battle of Mantineia, which he depicts with special 
reference to the habits and military skill of the Lakedauno- 
nians. lie tells us where his information is at fault, and 
thereby inspires us with confidence in what he bids us be- 
lieve, lie discusses the conduct of every single troop and 
every national division in turn, and yet never allows the read- 
er's attention to wander. The description of the fight itself 
is net to be surpassed. It is intelligible in all its complica- 
tions. The Spartan king, full of eagerness to disprove the 
reproaches to which his former conduct has given occasion, 
pressing impatiently forward, then restraining his ardor and 
arranging his troops for the tight, presents a figure notable in 
the annals o( military history. The impartiality of Thukvd- 
ides leads him to be circumstantial. In Herodotus such a 
result could hardly have been attained, for with him the gods 
play too great a part. Thnkydides, on the contrary, brings 
before us human action pure and simple, although he does 
not omit to relate that a I.akedannonian army is sometimes 
disbanded merely because the sacrifices at the frontier prove 
unfavorable. 

It is quite in accordance with his style that he should give 



THUKYDIDES. 315 

us the different treaties, even when comparatively unimpor- 
tant, not only word for word, but in the very dialect in which 
they were drawn up. Yet, with all this exactness of detail, 
we come upon a difficulty the mention of which cannot be 
avoided in this place. How are we to explain the fact that 
Thukydides does not reproduce word for word the letter 
which Nikias wrote home to Athens concerning the state of 
affairs in Sicily, but interpolates another, in which the matter 
is set forth more concisely ? And, further, what arc we to 
say about the authenticity of the speeches, which constitute, 
perhaps, the most excellent portion of his book? Were they 
really spoken as he transmits them to us? 

It is evident, to say the least, that the speeches arc remark- 
ably suited to the purpose which the author had in view in 
writing history. The speech of the Corinthians at Sparta, in 
the first book, is for the most part a comparison between 
Athens and Lakedeeraon. Nothing could be more service- 
able to the student of history at the opening of a work which 
depicts the struggle between these two cities. The subse- 
quent oration of Pericles dwells chiefly on the superiority of 
naval over land forces. This superiority had great effect on 
the course of affairs, and is therefore very suitably placed in 
the foreground. Nevertheless, in both these speeches the 
motive forces, which were of real importance in determining 
the general position, are explained with striking correctness. 
The speech of the Mytileneans at Olympia, and the speech of 
Cleon about the revolt of Lesbos, when taken together, throw 
abundant light upon the incompatibility which disturbed the 
relations between the sovereign state of Athens and the most 
powerful of her allies. But it may well be doubted whether 
Cleon actually spoke as he is here reported to have done. 
At all events, a political culture, such as is displayed by the 
speech in question, is not elsewhere attributed to the dema- 
gogue. 

In the deliberations which preceded the expedition to Sic- 
ily Thukydides has taken more pains to bring to light the 
reasons which lay at the root of the matter than the personal 
motives which actually led to the passing of the resolution. 
It is notorious that Diodorus, a very respectable author, as- 



316 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

cribcs to Nikias a speech on the proposal to attack Syracuse, 
which differs widely from that which Thukydides attributes 
to him, but which is, nevertheless, on the whole, much to the 
point. Finally, we can scarcely believe that the long dialogue 
between the Athenians and the Melians, in which the latter 
insist on their independence and the former demand submis- 
sion and entrance into their league, is word for word true. 
The principles on which both parties rely are matters of uni- 
versal history ; on the side of the Athenians they are the 
same as those applied to defend the expedition against Syra- 
cuse. The peculiarity of the discussion consists in the dialec- 
tical form in which the arguments on either side are cast. 

It is true that the attention of Thukydides is chiefly direct- 
ed towards Athens, but it is a mark of his superiority as an 
historian that he has formed clear conceptions about her oppo- 
nents, lie uses the speeches as a means of expressing these 
conceptions. In the excellent speeches of Brasidas are to be 
found views the scope of which extends far beyond contem- 
porary affairs. Nor is less approbation due to the speech of 
llermocrates, who predicts the failure of the Athenian expe- 
dition against Syracuse from causes similar to those which 
frustrated the Persian expedition against Greece, and em- 
braces in his survey the attitude maintained by Carthage and 
the resources of that power. We can appreciate the breadth 
of view which these remarks imply, but we may well ask 
how it was possible for Thukydides to obtain accurate ac- 
counts of the speeches on either side which were made in 
Syracuse, or of that other oration which Demosthenes ad- 
dressed to the troops at Pylos. The description of the con- 
flict at Pylos is a gem of historical writing, but it would be 
hazardous to suppose that the speeches which animated the 
combatants have been literally reproduced. It is through 
these speeches that we gain an insight into the hidden con- 
trasts which set in motion the Hellenic world. These con- 
trasts are depicted with a luminous accuracy in which all that 
is hypothetical is avoided. The historian has no theories to 
propound, and the reader becomes so much the more convers- 
ant with realities. It must, however, be allowed that in the 
speeches there is a departure from exact truth, for the per- 



INTELLECTUAL LIFE IN ATHENS. 317 

sonal views of the historian appear in the guise of history. 
It is a moment in which the science of history and the science 
of rhetoric, then flourishing at Athens, unite their forces. 

The master from whom Thukydides learned the latter art 
was Antiphon, of whom we have already spoken. Thukyd- 
ides says of him that he was a man the vigor of whose 
thought was only equalled by the vigor of his diction. These 
words are exactly applicable to the speeches of Thukydides. 
It is well known that they were considered masterpieces of 
eloquence, and that they were studied by Demosthenes. Thu- 
kydides is at once orator and historian, but he keeps the two 
arts distinct. While banishing rhetoric from his narrative, 
in his speeches he allows it full play. The union of the two 
characters was in such close agreement with the public life of 
antiquity that it was imitated by later historians, and, although 
it often degenerated in after-times into mere display, may be 
said to be the chief characteristic of ancient historiography. 

7. Intellectual Life in Athens. 

There is something almost miraculous in this simultaneous, 
or nearly simultaneous, appearance of such different types of 
genius, accomplishing, in poetry, philosophy, and history, the 
greatest feats which the human mind has ever performed. 
Each is original, and strikes out his own line, but all work in 
harmony. By one or other of these masters are set forth all 
the greatest problems concerning things divine and human. 
Athens rejoiced in the possession of a theatre the like of 
which, whether for sport or earnest, has never been seen in 
any other city. The people lived in constant enjoyment of 
the noblest dramatic productions. Sophocles was not dispos- 
sessed by Euripides : their works appeared at the same time 
upon the stage. The history of Herodotus was read aloud in 
public meetings. Thukydides was reserved for more private 
study, but his works had a wide circulation in writing. A 
high standard of culture is implied in the fact that the Demos 
was as capable of following the speeches of Pericles, and of 
arriving at decisions about the hardest political questions, as 
of giving a verdict in the transactions of the Heliaea. 

This democracy permitted greater freedom of discussion 



31 S PHILOSOPHY AND LITEKATURE. 

than was to be found anywhere else in the world. It attract- 
ed men of similar aims from the colonies in the East and in 
the West, and guaranteed to all a safe asylum. As Herodotus 
migrated thither from Halicarnassus, so did Anaxagoras from 
Clazomenae. In his own home he found himself so cramped 
that he abandoned all his interests there and came to Athens. 
Her increasing greatness offered him an infinite prospect, for 
a state whose power has reached its zenith has less attraction 
for an ambitious spirit than one whose power is not yet fully 
grown. In Athens Anaxagoras found a sphere of influence 
such as he needed. We have already touched upon his rela- 
tions with Pericles, and certainly his doctrines deserved to 
obtain a hearing. 

Empedocles, as we have seen, traced all motion to Hate and 
Love in primary matter — that is, to its own internal im- 
pulses. But Anaxagoras found this explanation insufficient, 
and refused to believe that a settled order of the world could 
be produced by the motion of the elements. It appears to 
have been chiefly due to this observation that he arrived at 
the idea of an omnipotent Mind. This mind, as the origin of 
all motion, he opposed to matter — a fresh departure of such 
universal import that it announced a totally new system of 
thinking. " The Mind," says Anaxagoras, " is infinite, self-con- 
trolling, unmixed. It lives of itself. It is a simple essence 
possessing power and knowledge. It has ordained all that 
was, is, and is to be." These are great thoughts, through 
which philosophy, following the lines once adopted, accepting 
here and rejecting there, proceeding from one reflection to 
another, at last reaches the idea of the unity of God, who, 
however, is not the Creator, but the indwelling Euler of the 
universe.* Anaxagoras is said to have declared the object of 
human life to be the observation and knowledge of the 
heavenly bodies. He was a physicist and an astronomer; 
in reirardino: the sun and moon as bodies of the nature of 



* The God of Anaxagoras lias the same relation to things as the soul 
to living beings. It is characteristic that the hypothesis of the vo?<: was 
regarded as a last resource (orav a-6p>)(ry, rdre TraptXnEi rbv vovv, Anst. 
" Metaph." i. 4, p. 985 a). 



EARLY PHILOSOPHERS. 319 

worlds — in fact, resembling the earth — he offended popular 
prejudices, but had thinking men on his side. Anaxagoras 
attached to himself both Euripides and Thukj T dides, and in 
their writings, especially in those of the former, we find the 
ideas of this philosopher reproduced. 

The masters of philosophy and rhetoric, attracted by the 
political supremacy of Athens, were already migrating thither 
from Italy and Sicily. Among them the Eleatics Zeno and 
Parmenides are mentioned. The teaching of philosophy 
was closely connected with the art of logic and rhetoric, 
which made its way in like manner from Sicily. Athens, 
in fact, became the very centre and home of the Greek in- 
tellect. 

In order to appreciate the intellectual greatness of Athens 
we must remember that Polygnotus, Pheidias, and Ictinus, the 
architect of the Parthenon, were all living at Athens at this 
time. There can be no doubt that Greek art was based upon 
Egyptian, but it had a peculiar development of its own. 
Greek plastic art is the offspring of Greek gymnastics. Take, 
for example, the iEginetan marbles, preserved to us by a 
happy fate from the earliest times. On the pediment of a 
temple of Athene in iEgina are represented scenes out of 
the Trojan war. In the midst of the combatants, struggling 
over the bodies of the Grecian dead, appears Athene, in all 
the severe dignity of the ancient style. The combatants are 
copied immediately from life. Some traces of Egyptian 
stiffness have been observed, but in general the nude figures, 
in their vigorous movement and in the way they handle their 
weapons, are life-like even to individuality. It is otherwise 
with the features of the face. The facial proportions are 
incorrectly given ; the eyes are too prominent, and the corners 
of the mouth are drawn upwards : but this may, perhaps, be 
defended on the ground that an individual elaboration of the 
heads and faces would have been out of place in such a scene. 
The general aspect of the struggle was the matter of most 
importance. Unity of style is visible throughout ; all is fresh 
and original ; and the spectator is impressed with a sense 
that he is in the very presence of the ancient world. In the 
same place where these figures are now preserved are to be 



320 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

found sonic specimens of Egyptian sculpture. Physiological 

observers tell us that they appear to have been copied from 
models resembling skeletons ; but the Greeks copied the liv- 
ing man, in all the fulness of life and energy. 

Those monuments belong, so far as we can see, to the pe- 
riod before the Persian wars. After the Persian wars the tri- 
umphs of that epoch took the place of the memories of Troy. 
But, like the latter, they were still treated as the immediate 
results of divine interference. The combination of the wor- 
ship of the gods with courageous resistance to the foreign 
invader is the chief characteristic of these sculptures. We 
have already mentioned the group of thirteen figures in 
bronze, which the Athenians presented as a thank-offering to 
the Delphic shrine, representing the gods of the country and 
of the Athenian clans, and in their midst Miltiades, the hero 
of Marathon. There is something noble in the conception of 
victory, as at once a triumph for men and for the gods, which 
is manifested here. The same idea is expressed in the colos- 
sal statue of Athene Promachos, which lvimon commissioned 
Pheidias to set up. The master of sculpture and the master 
of painting joined hands in the endeavor to express this feel- 
ing, and used the national legends as symbols of their intent. 
Athene was regarded as at once the patroness of Athens and 
the ally of Zeus in his conflict with the Titans. Kimon 
brought home from Thasos the bones of Theseus, the ancient 
national hero, and laid them in a separate shrine, in the dec- 
orations of which were celebrated his heroic deeds against, 
the Centaurs, the representatives of untamed natural force, 
and against the Amazons, the invaders of his country. In a 
similar spirit Polygnotus took part in the adornment of Ki- 
mon's house. In the building which went by the name of 
the Painted Portico he renewed the memories of Troy, giv- 
ing special prominence to the deeds of the Athenian contin- 
gent, but his chief work was to give form and expression to 
the stories of the battle of Marathon. 

But it is not only patriotism which raises these works of 
art above all that preceded them. Both Pheidias and Polyg- 
notus had at the same time an ideal end in view. In the 
LeseliL 1 at Delphi. Polygnotus, taking as one of his subjects 



PHEIDIAS AND POLYGNOTUS. 321 

the under-world, attempted to put the justice of the gods into 
a visible form. He is famed also as a painter of character, 
who never lost sight of the bearing which rightly belonged 
to those whom he portrayed. Of his painting of Polyxena, 
when being sacrificed as an atonement to the shade of Achil- 
les, an ancient observer says that the whole story of the Tro- 
jan war was in her eyes. The fame of Pheidias was raised to 
a still higher point by the chryselephantine statue of Zeus at 
Olympia. It is an old tradition that as he fashioned it the 
verses of Homer were in his mind, in which the poet speaks 
of the brows and hair of the deity, and how Olympus trem- 
bled at his nod. iEinilius Paulas, that victorious Philhellene, 
remarked that in the statue appeared the Homeric Zeus com- 
plete, nay, rather the essence of divinity itself. Pheidias, 
adds another Roman, carved gods still better than men, and 
even religion profited by his aid. Thus art, too, had some- 
thing to say in these discussions on the divine and human 
which occupied Greek minds. Her influence was a living 
influence, and, in the form which it took in the hands of 
these artists, might even balance the speculations of Anax- 
agoras. 

But just at this time the intellectual movement received a 
new stimulus from the influence of Sicily. In that country 
philosophical culture and political theory availed themselves 
to the full of the technical improvements recently made in 
the art of speech. The first theoretical book on any art was 
a treatise on rhetoric, written in Sicily. Elsewhere, too, there 
arose schools, in which the art of dialectic and orator}' was 
taught in conjunction with philosophical doctrine. These 
were the first public schools in which voluntary learners at- 
tached themselves to a master. During the time of the Pelo- 
ponnesian war we find the most distinguished representatives 
of these schools at Athens. 

Gorgias of Leontini, who came to Athens originally as an 
ambassador from his native city, was a man remarkable for 
the splendor of his diction and the dignity of his personal ap- 
pearance. From Sicily too, where he had taught for pay, 
came Protagoras of Abdera. Besides these there came Hip- 
pias of Elis, Prodicus of Keos, and from Chios the brothers 

21 



322 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

Euthydemus and Dionysodorus. We find these men in the 
anterooms of the most distinguished citizens, or in the gym- 
nasia, attended as they paced to and fro by numerous pupils, 
both strangers and natives. Every pointed remark that falls 
from their lips is received with loud applause, and those who 
are put to rout by their logical skill are laughed at by the 
rest. They sit on benches and make answer to all who ques- 
tion them, or they rest on couches and talk in a voice loud 
enough to fill the room. They receive fees from their pupils, 
and Protagoras is said to have made a larger fortune than 
Fheidias. 

These men, among whom were to be found persons worthy 
of all respect, were called Sophists. The flavor of evil repu- 
tation that hangs about this title is principally due to the at- 
titude which they took up towards philosophical opinions, for, 
whether they inclined towards the Ionian school, like Pro- 
tagoras, or, like Gorgias, to the Sicilian, the prominent char- 
acteristic of their teaching is the complete uncertainty of all 
things. 

Starting from the position that everything rests on two 
movements independent of one another, the one that of the 
subject, or sentient being, the other that of the object, or 
sensible being, Protagoras held that all perception originated 
in the meeting of these two, which meeting belonged, in the 
nature of things, to the domain of chance. Perception he 
considered to be a purely subjective sensation, the object of 
which is of an essentially fleeting nature and only attains to 
reality through being felt. Similar or even more advanced 
ideas were promulgated by the followers of Parmenides. The 
fundamental principle of the Sophists — namely, that what is 
unreal has no existence at all — was developed by them into 
the axiom that a lie is impossible. They expected an oppo- 
nent to begin by proving to them that such a thing as false 
opinion could exist, and that deceitful appearances could pen- 
etrate into the region of thought. 

These doubts about the existence of truth reacted of ne- 
cessity on religious as well as political views. When men 
went so far as to say that the gods were only recognized in 
accordance with custom and law, it was but a short step to 



SOCRATES. 323 

the statement — a statement put forward even at this early 
date, and frequently repeated under very diverse conditions 
— that religion owes its origin to a political artifice of ancient 
date, when it was thought to be expedient to represent the 
gods as overseers of human virtue and vice. Other thinkers 
went on to connect the idea of law and justice with the 
ephemeral opinion of ruling parties. The statement attrib- 
uted in Plato's "Republic" to Thrasymachus, that justice is 
that which is profitable to the ruler, must doubtless, as we 
gather from Cicero, have actually occurred in his writings. 
It was a question which, as we learn from Xenophon's "Mem- 
orabilia," occupied the attention of Pericles, and that, too, 
with immediate reference to the existing polity. Pericles re- 
marks that he has been in doubt whether that which is estab- 
lished by the caprice of the mob is to be regarded as law or 
violence. 

8. /Socrates. 

Scepticism was thus triumphant. Men doubted of the ob- 
jectivity of perceptions, of the truth or untruth of speech, of 
the existence of the gods, which was made dependent on hu- 
man opinion, even of the difference between right and wrong. 
In the midst of this chaos of conflicting opinion Socrates ap- 
peared. His very exterior was remarkable. He went about 
barefoot, in mean attire ; his wants were few and easily satis- 
fied, for he fancied that thereby he approached the gods, who 
stand in need of naught. He was daily to bo seen in the 
market-place, in the workshops, in the gymnasia ; he con- 
versed with young and old, high and low, and yet without 
pretending to be a teacher. No one with whom he came in 
contact could escape from the iron grasp of his dialectic. lie 
appealed only to the verdict of sound human intelligence, 
making it his business to bring this intelligence to a con- 
sciousness of itself. The Sophists lived in the region of es- 
tablished notions, and on this foundation they built up their 
views and systems. Socrates made it his duty to examine 
these notions,, and applied to them the touchstone of that in- 
sight which is implanted in the breast of every human being. 
lie put in question all the notions from which the Sophists 
started ; he inquired into what they called rational, right, or 



32i PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

equable ; he subjected these notions to criticism by the stand- 
ard of innate ideas, which alone he held to be true. By this 
method he gathered from the multiplicity of opinion a sum 
of irrefragable truth. The knowledge which he obtained has 
been rightly defined as the science of ideas. It is only on the 
foundation of such a knowledge that safe rules of moral con- 
duct can be based, for virtue and knowledge are thus made 
to coincide. 

The human mind has never been placed in a more com- 
manding position. It contains in itself the criterion of all 
truth ; it is, in fact, in possession of truth. The essence of 
Socratic principles lies in the declaration that, in order to dis- 
cover what is true, it is only necessary to sever tenable ideas 
from those notions that are untenable. Socrates regards the 
human mind as the source and warrant of all ideas, and es- 
pecially of moral ideas ; but the ideas themselves he deduces 
from insight. Science thus changed its character: it took, 
as its starting-point, the ideas that are innate in man. It was 
remarked in ancient times that Socrates had brought back 
philosophy from heaven to earth. The same may be said to 
have been done by Thukydides in history, and by Euripides 
in the drama. It was, in fact, the tendency of the age. Nev- 
ertheless Socrates went to work with great prudence. Anax- 
agoras, who flourished while Socrates was still young, had 
done undeniable service by declaring those occurrences, such 
as eclipses of the moon or monstrous births, which filled men 
with alarm for the future, to be merely natural phenomena, 
having no connection with human acts or intentions. Socra- 
tes opposed him on the ground that the explanations given 
of these phenomena were either insufficient or inapplicable. 
He expressed his belief that there were certain things which 
the gods had reserved as the special area of their activity, 
while at the same time he accepted the idea that all things 
were swayed by a single divine intelligence. The human 
mind was, in his view, the offspring of this intelligence, and 
thereby connected with the gods. On similar grounds he 
clung firmly to the conviction that the gods took an imme- 
diate share in directing human affairs, and manifested in 
miraculous wise their kindly care for man. He had the live- 



SOCRATES. 325 

liest sense of the mysterious connection between the divine 
and human, and went so far as to declare that he had with- 
in him a daemon, distinct from himself, which warned him 
against any mistake that he was in danger of committing. 
All this did not prevent him from opposing the prevailing 
notions about the gods. lie held, for instance, that it was 
wrong to imagine that men could do them any service, but 
their omnipresence, their omnipotence, and their goodness re- 
ceived from him full recognition. Socrates undertook one 
of the greatest and noblest tasks that were set before Athe- 
nian society, the task, namely, of cleansing the ancient faith 
from its superstitious elements, and of combining rational and 
religious truth. 

Such a man was sure to be misunderstood. Every one 
knows how the great comic poet, one of the strongest intellects 
of the day, misused his name ; for the Socrates of Aristoph- 
anes is as far apart from the Socrates of real life as earth 
from heaven.* It may fairly be said that the Socrates of 
comedy is the Protagoras of the Platonic dialogue, for Aris- 
tophanes represents him as supporting that which the Soc- 
rates of history did his best to overthrow. 

These attacks were supported by a popular reaction against 
anti-traditional modes of thought. Such modes had found 
favor with Pericles, but the democracy held fast to the old 
superstition. It appears that Cleon made use of the soothsayer 
Diopeithes, and of oracles in general. It was on the ground 
of an oracle that he carried out, in the sixth year of the Pelo- 
ponnesian war, a purification of Delos, which was attended 

* In his treatise " De Vita Aristophanis " (in " Aristoph. Com." ed. 
Meineke), p. xviii., my brother, Ferdinand Ranke, a man as learned as be 
was amiable, remarks, " Excepta paupertate, parsimonia, abstiuentia, labo- 
rum patientia, aliisque rebus laudi potius et honori inservientibus quam 
justae reprehensioni obnoxiis reliqua omnia nihil esse nisi aut mendacia 
aut errores, omne, quod a Xenopbonte et Platone de Socrate narratur, 
luculenter docet. Neque enim prioribus neque posterioribus vita? annis 
discipulos in domum recepit aut naturalem philosophiam aut dialecticam 
arteni docuit." The piece was published as early as the year 424-3, un- 
der the archonship of Isarchus, at a time when the peculiar position of 
Socrates was not as yet rightly understood. 



D26 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

with much violence. Nikias, too, was in communication with 
Diopeitlies. In the trial occasioned by the mutilation of the 
Hernias the populace, infuriated by the violation of mysteries 
and the insults done to the rites it adored, gave free vent to 
its animosity. It was about the same time that Protagoras 
was expelled from Athens and his atheistical works commit- 
ted to the flames. Whether, as some say, it was one of the 
Four Hundred who brought the charge against him must re- 
main uncertain. Even the worship of Kotytto and Kybele 
was introduced from abroad, and met with the warmest recep- 
tion. How resolutely men clung to their old religious views 
may be best seen in the condemnation of the generals after 
the battle of Arginusa?, a step which was opposed by Soc- 
rates. 

Socrates, as we have seen, clung originally to the positive 
faith, as modified to meet the requirements of a higher intel- 
ligence ; but to the form in which it was acceptable to the 
democracy, and in which it became idolatrous, he openly de- 
clared himself an opponent. The unfortunate issue of the 
Peloponnesian war, and the victories of the Lakedcemonians, 
who clung firmly to ancient principles, were not without effect 
upon Athenian feeling both with respect to religion and the 
constitution. The frequent revolutions experienced by the 
republic since the death of Pericles had shaken the confidence 
of all thinking men in the dominant political system. In the 
struggle between oligarchy and democracy Socrates did not 
actually take sides with either. But after this struggle had 
passed through various phases, and the democracy had at 
length got the upper hand, public opinion about Socrates was 
influenced by the fact that, whatever he was, he was not a 
democrat. 

On the contrary, he found himself in antagonism to the 
fundamental idea of democracy. He founded his ethical sys- 
tem on an intellectual basis, and he regarded political systems 
from the same point of view. His doctrine was that he 
should rule who best understood the art of ruling. A ruler 
excelling all his contemporaries in intelligence was, indeed, 
not forthcoming. Alkibiades was far from corresponding 
with such an ideal. Critias, the most violent of the Thirty 



SOCKATES. 327 

Tyrants, was still further removed from it. It was one of 
the most damaging charges against the philosopher that Alki- 
biades and Critias were his pupils, however little he is to be 
blamed for their excesses. The political ideas of Socrates 
had rather a negative tendency ; among other things, he ob- 
jected to the conferring of office by lot ; for who, said he, 
would place confidence in a helmsman chosen in this fashion? 
But, in taking up this position, he put in question the claim 
of those who possessed the franchise to exclude others from 
the state, and to assume its whole direction ; and this, too, at 
a time when, in consequence of the recent conflict, it had been 
resolved to restore the laws of Solon, which were based upon 
this very principle, in their original form. The main current 
of political feeling flowed in this direction, and the restoration 
of Athenian power was believed to depend upon the restora- 
tion of the democracy. 

The execution of this project implied the maintenance of 
the ancient religion, on which the political system in great 
measure rested, with undiminished authority. Now Socrates, 
it could not be denied, performed all his civil and religious 
duties. But his speculations went far beyond these duties; 
he did not, as became a born Athenian, adopt as his own the 
idea of the constitution and of the popular religion. His 
thoughts, at any rate, were free from any specifically national 
element. His philosophy strove to grasp what is common to 
humanity in those fundamental ideas which range far beyond 
the outward forms of social life at Athens, of the Athenian 
state, and the Athenian religion. And these ideas he by no 
means kept to himself; he communicated them in conversa- 
tion with younger men, and compelled their recognition. In 
happier times, when there was nothing to fear, the Athenian 
republic might have been content to look quietly on at con- 
duct of this kind, but it could no longer afford to be tolerant. 
The democratic principles, according to which the restored 
Council of Five Hundred, the holders of supreme authority, 
were chosen by lot or by a chance majority, were diametri- 
cally opposed to the doctrines of Socrates, who taught that 
good government was absolutely incompatible with such con- 
ditions. But the times required that all should lend their aid 



328 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

to the restoration of the state. A man who enjoyed the ven- 
eration of all impartial or youthful minds, and made use of 
his power to inveigh against the axioms on which the exist- 
ing social system depended, could no longer be allowed free 
play. 

We must not depreciate the intrinsic importance of the 
question which was thus brought forward. It is the question 
whether the legislative power should not originate in some- 
thing better than the authority of popular leaders or a major- 
ity of the people. In the latter case law itself appeared as a 
mere act of power, and on that account could not be regarded 
as unconditionally binding ; while beyond existing forms 
there lay the idea of a state grounded on wisdom and insight, 
which could not be made dependent on the support of the 
masses, and still less on the fortune of the lot. The manner 
in which laws are to be passed is the weightiest problem that 
can be laid before any administration. When, therefore, 
Socrates deviated from the principles which underlay the de- 
mocracy, he incurred the hatred of the democratic leaders — a 
hatred which, regarded from the point of view of the existing 
state, was not without its justification. He was brought to trial 
by a man named Anytus, who had taken part in the re-estab- 
lishment of the republic under Thrasybulus, and two literary 
comrades — a poet, who undertook to conduct the prosecution, 
and a rhetorician. It is quite possible that the influence 
which Socrates had obtained over a son of Anytus was at the 
root of the latter' s animosity. The philosopher was declared 
to be a perverter of youth, a person who not only despised 
the old gods, but endeavored to introduce the worship of new. 
There was just this much in support of the charge, that 
Socrates refused credit to those portions of the mythology 
which attributed human passions to the gods, and spoke of his 
daemon in a way which made his own conscience the reposi- 
tory of absolute truth. In the fate of Socrates there is some- 
thing deeply tragic. The free and imposing development 
with which he identified himself, true and noble as it was, 
brought him into collision with the dominant tendencies 
which were at work on the restoration of the state. In him 
sentiments common to mankind came into conflict with a 



SOCRATES. 329 

passing phase of patriotism, and his idea of the deity clashed 
with the established religion of the state. 

Socrates had devoted his life before all things to his native 
city; he had never left Athens except when some military 
expedition in which he had to take part carried him beyond 
her walls. He was now convinced that Athens was no place 
for him. lie saw that he must perish, and hand over the 
maintenance and development of his doctrines to other men 
and to happier circumstances. His daemon warned him not to 
oppose the sentence which was about to be pronounced against 
him. There was, indeed, great truth in the claim he made 
that he should be allowed to dine in the Prytaneum at the 
public expense. He was worthy of that reward, but to grant 
it would have been to deny the absolute validity of those very 
principles which his judges were most eager to proclaim. 
There can be no doubt that Socrates was innocent ; he was 
not attacked on the score of his actions, but on the score of 
his opinions, and these were the noblest that had yet found 
expression in Athens, and were based on a profound acquaint- 
ance with the nature of man. It was to the honor of Athens 
that this appeal to the source of irrefragable truth that exists 
in the breast of every intelligent human being was made 
within her walls. But she could not tolerate the appeal, for 
it was antagonistic to the political restoration which was then 
in progress, and to this restoration Socrates fell a victim. As 
for himself, he suffered nothing that he would have regarded 
as a misfortune. He had passed the age of seventy years;* 
he had lived his life, and fulfilled the task to which he felt 
himself called ; and he swallowed the fatal hemlock without 
a pang. 

9. Plato and Aristotle. 

By the death of Socrates a gulf was placed between those 



* So, at least, says Plato (" Apol." p. 17), whom I would rather trust on 
such a point than Apollodorus. The latter places the birth of Socrates 
in the month Thargelion, in the year 468. Socrates died in the month 
Thargelion, in the year 399, under the archonship of Laches, so that, ac- 
cording to the ordinary calculation, he had just entered upon his seven- 
tieth year, which does not agree with what Plato says. 



330 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

philosophical speculations which tended towards a positive 
but intellectual form of faith and the idolatrous religion of 
the state. The state set itself to oppose every attempt to 
popularize the new ideas, but philosophy was fortunately al- 
lowed to continue its own development. As the ancient fable 
puts it, there sprang from the breast of Socrates a swan — the 
bird of Apollo. This swan was Plato. 

The Sophists were foreigners in Athens; Socrates belonged 
to the poorer class of citizens; but Plato sprang from one of 
the most distinguished families in the state, a family that 
traced its descent from the last of the kings. Critias, who 
passed for a pupil of Socrates, was a near relation of Plato's 
mother, and one of Plato's brothers fell at the side of Critias 
in the fight with Thrasybulus. At the time when that con- 
flict came to a close Plato was already a pupil in the school 
of Socrates, whose society lie enjoyed for a period of ten 
years. If Anytus, as a democrat, reproached Socrates with 
having ruined his son, the aristocratic famil} r of Plato were 
probably of the opposite opinion. Plato was thus enabled to 
attach himself with all his heart to the great master of logic 
and of ethics. After the death of Socrates he considered it 
advisable to leave Athens. He betook himself first to Mega- 
ra, where Euclcides was endeavoring to combine the Socratic 
method with the views of the Eleatic school, and then to Ky- 
rene, where he found a friend of that school engaged in the 
study of mathematical science. Thence he went to Southern 
Italy, where the doctrines and discipline of Pythagoras still 
produced men like Archytas, who obtained such influence in 
Tarentum as to control the issues of peace and war. In his 
zest for travelling Plato somewhat resembled Herodotus. We 
are assured that he even went to Egypt, to make himself ac- 
quainted with the ancient wisdom of the priests of Amnion, 
and that he intended to explore the doctrines of the Persian 
Magi, had he not been hindered by the outbreak of war. In 
Plato the philosophical opinions of the contemporary world 
were reflected, as Herodotus reflected its historical recollec- 
tions, but he allowed nothing to seduce him from the idealism 
of Socrates. 

In Plato's life the three gradations of apprenticeship, travel, 



PLATO. 331 

and teaching may be clearly distinguished.* On his return 
to Athens he was strongly advised to enter upon a political 
career, to which his noble birth would have insured him im- 
mediate admission. But the fate of Socrates had made it 
clear that genuine philosophical conviction was incompatible 
with political activity. He therefore rejected all such propo- 
sals, and devoted his life to the development of philosophical 
doctrine. He lived in his own house, close by the Academus, 
a garden adorned with monuments of the gods and heroes, 
overshadowed with noble plane-trees, and thickly planted with 
the native olive, whose origin was supposed to be divine. 
Here his pupils collected round him in much the same way 
as they had once collected round the Sophists, and with them 
he discussed the conflict which his teacher had carried on with 
antagonistic systems and opinions. His works are the record 
of these scientific discussions. They are conversations in 
which Socratic views are maintained against all comers, and 
developed in a ceaseless conflict of logic. In this home he 
read and wrote and worked, till at length, in advanced old 
age, but with all his powers unimpaired, he was overtaken by 
the common fate of man. One tradition declares that he 
breathed his last in the midst of a. joyous feast ; another, that 
he died in the act of writing, his stylus in his hand. 

It is no mere accident that Plato's writings are in the form 
of dialogues; they were taken directly from the life. Dia- 
logue brings to view the inner processes of the mind; it 
throws light, as it were, upon the very growth of thought. 
One is struck, in reading the dialogues of Plato, by the har- 
mony of form and matter, the union of happy invention and 
appropriate expression. In a word, they are the work of a 
great writer. No one has ever more clearly shown the per- 
manent value of careful and correct composition. 

It does not come within the scope of this work to trace 
the development of that system which all subsequent genera- 
tions have striven to fathom and to understand. We can only 



* I purposely omit Plato's residence in Sicily and his adventures there. 
The facts themselves are doubtful, and a detailed examination would not 
be in place here. 



332 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

touch upon the connection of Plato's thoughts with those 
questions of universal interest which agitated the intellect of 
(Greece. The theological problem, which occupied the atten- 
tion of all Greek poets and thinkers, rests upon the assump- 
tion of a conflict between the primary forces of nature and 
the Olympian gods. The gods exist, as the heroes exist ; the 
gods rule the universe, and the universe is subject to their 
laws. But they are to be regarded, as we have already seen 
in Herodotus, rather as active powers than as divine beings: 
the true essence of the divine does not make its appearance 
in them : they are subject to fate. The primary forces, which 
have a moral as well as physical importance, exist apart from 
them, and in conflict with them. Herodotus is far from de- 
nying the existence of the gods, but when the truly divine 
is in question he always takes refuge in the mysteries. Pin- 
dar rejects all that is immoral and unseemly in the legends of 
the gods. Sophocles resembles him in refusing to believe 
that the gods are ever to be found in opposition to what is 
right. In Euripides, on the contrary, all that is reprehensible 
in the legends of the gods is brought forward without reserve. 
./Eschylus and Herodotus have a profounder insight into this 
contradiction than any other authors. The most important 
point in .Eschylus is the view that man himself belongs to 
the primeval world, and supported by the primary forces of 
nature as opposed to the gods, wins his way to the free culti- 
vation of his physical and intellectual powers. In this anal- 
}'sis, then, the existence of a something essentially divine is 
assumed, and it is this of which philosophical discussion aims 
at forming an ideal conception. 

Plato, in common with Pindar and Herodotus, combats the 
view of the gods which we find in Homer and Hesiod. He 
defines the tales about Uranus ami Cronus as "a great lie 
about the greatest things," and an ill-favored lie to boot. It 
appears to him preposterous that the gods should be supposed 
to engage in war and conflict with one another. If God is 
good, how can he do harm j If he is truth itself, how can he 
deceive ? Plato rejects the fables not only of epic but also of 
lyric poetry, according to which it is alwavs easy for a god to 
find a pretext for ruining men. All that one may lawfully 



PLATO. 333 

affirm is, that the deity does what is right and good, and that 
when an)' one is chastised it is for his advantage. To give 
expression to these opinions was comparatively unimportant, 
for they already carried conviction to the minds of thought- 
ful and independent men, but how to defend them against 
the analytical doctrines of the Sophists was a problem which 
demanded immediate solution. 

Plato introduces us to all the most famous Sophists. Some- 
times he exerts himself to annihilate the dogmatism and tine 
speeches of some particular opponent. For instance, in the 
" Protagoras," which may be regarded' as the easiest and most 
graceful introduction to Platonic views, the peculiar proposi- 
tions of that philosopher are overthrown, and on their ruins 
those of Plato are marshalled in splendid array. At other 
times he attacks the sophistic method in general. In the 
" Euthydemus," for example, Dionysodorus is made to refute 
himself by successive affirmations and denials, and the sophis- 
tic trick of embarrassing an opponent by using the same word 
in different senses is exposed in all its hollowness. A closer 
analysis of the dialogues in their bearing on the sophistic 
method of the day brings out with ever-increasing clearness 
what particular antagonist Plato had in view on each occasion. 
lie sometimes combines several different opinions; and, while 
appearing to desert one in favor of the other, aims at the de- 
struction of both. He not only attacks simultaneously Pro- 
tagoras, Gorgias, and the sophistic followers of Parmenides, 
but he refutes Ileracleitus with the arguments of Empedocles, 
and Empedocles with the arguments of Ileracleitus.* The 
opinions, however, which are thus attacked are not treated as 
personal, but as universal, errors. In the " Thea^tetus" Plato 
refutes certain views which reappeared in full force and activ- 
ity in the eighteenth century. 

On the one hand the commonplace notions about gods and 
things divine are rejected, on the other the schemes of philoso- 
phers opposed to these notions are overthrown. Between the 
two, now attaching itself to one side, now to the other, rises 
the intelligent mind, the one Being that thinks and is. This is 

* Comp. Cousin, Introduction to the Lysis, " CEuvres de Platon," iv. 22. 



334 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

wry plain, for example, in the "Sophist.'* In this dialogue, in 

the course of his examination of the sophistic method, Plato 
c< Miics upon the idea of I'eing and Not-being. Difference he 
deduces from the movements of Not-being. Movement pro- 
duces species, so that something arises which partakes of Being, 
which is and yet is not Being. Plato does not think it alto- 
gether a mistake to declare all to be one, as many persons do, 
sineo things in general may be regarded as one and yet are 
many. To elucidate the relation of unity and multiplicity is 
a problem not only of great general interest, but of supreme 
importance for any metaphysical system. In this relation lies 
something divine. It might be said that Prometheus stole 
this thought together with the fire from heaven. An idea is 
unity in multiplicity: it is real Being in every respect: there 
can be even an idea of ideas. To know is to seize the idea : 
ideas are the realities of the universe. By means of this 
one thought, a thousand times repeated, stated, inculcated, the 
world comes to have a lofty intellectual purport, with which 
the thinking mind stands in immediate relation. It would, 
Recording to Plato, be impossible to combat false notions about 
the gods, if the idea of good was not forthcoming as a standard 
by which to test them. There is an apposite remark on this 
subject in the "Euthyphron," to the effect that the holy is 
not holy because it is loved of the gods, but is loved of the 
gods because it is holy. 

Plato docs not express any opinion on the question how far 
the gods really exist; but not nn frequently, and especially 
where he is speaking of public institutions, as, for instance, in 
the " Laws," he expressly recognizes their existence. It is 
only the mythical notions of popular superstition that he ab- 
solutely rejects. If we recall the conflict of opinion between 
Herodotus and Thukydides, we find Plato siding with the lat- 
ter, although he is superior in that his views collectively form 
one universal philosophical system. The idea of good is the 
deepest foundation of being and thought. Plato seems to 
have conceived of it as spirit, but not as absolutely self-deter- 
mined.* The divine he describes as immutable, truthful, 

♦Brandis, "Handbuch dor Qeschichte in griechisch-rSmischen Phi- 
losophic"".^.-:. 1,216.841. 



PLATO AND ARISTOTLE. 335 

blissful, just, free from envy, and having no part or lot with 
evil.* 

In the "Timams" God appears as ruler of the universe. 
Ideas are associated, but not directly, with Becoming. Time, 
in its course, which controls Becoming, is only a copy of 
eternity. The transition from the idea to divine personality 
is nowhere, so far as I can see, explained : it is rather assumed 
from the existence of the gods than independently proved.f 
The deities of the popular faith are condensed into one living 
Divine Being. 

Following a method like this, it was impossible to do more 
than to place a philosophical conviction alongside of the 
common faith. The latter held good for the multitude, the 
former for the philosophic classes. Still, it was an inestimable 
gain that a comprehensible doctrine had been propounded, a 
doctrine which embraced all that was tenable in the older 
religious and philosophical notions, a doctrine which at once 
satisfied and stimulated thoughtful minds. The origin of the 
soul is wrapped in the same obscurity as the personal existence 
of the Deity. But its calling is clear: it is to recognize the 
idea, and to live according to it. 

Political rhetoric, practised by the majority as an art ena- 
bling its master to play a part in public affairs, is immeasura- 
bly inferior to the true science of politics. Such is Plato's 
opinion. Let us endeavor to connect with this point of view 
the body of thought which his great pupil and successor, 
Aristotle, left to posterity. Aristotle was born at Stageira, in 

* The passage in the "Timrcus" is well known. Some have seen in it 
nothing but the declaration of the author's own incompetence; to others 
it seems to be an ironical and almost scoffing attack upon belief in God. 
It is probably a declaration of incompetence, with a tendency towards 
negation. 

t Such is the opinion of Zeller ("Die Philosophic der Gricchcn," ii. 1, 
p. COO). " Plato," says he, " nowhere attempts to combine these religious 
notions more accurately with his scientific ideas, and to prove their com- 
patibility." Ilcgel (" Vorlesungen iibcr die Gesch. der Philos." ii. 259) 
says, " When God was only the Good, lie was only a name, not yet self- 
determining and self-determined." I adduce these quotations, which 
agree with my views, as an excuse for venturing to give the results of my 
own studies of the works of Plato. 



336 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

Chalkidike, one of that group of Greek colonies which are scat- 
tered over the frontier of Thrace and Makedonia. For many 
years he enjoyed the society of Plato, and was a pupil in his 
school ; he was a warm adherent of the idealistic philosophy 
developed by Plato from the teaching of Socrates ; his ad- 
miration for Plato is evident throughout his works. With- 
out Plato Aristotle would have been impossible. 

Nevertheless the pupil is not seldom in opposition to the 
master, and it is on these occasions that his work is most im- 
portant. The difference between them began on a decisive 
point. Plato had assumed that primary matter was without 
beginning, but had been set in order at a certain time by the 
Deity. Aristotle disputed this assumption in one of his ear- 
liest works, on the ground that no conception can be formed 
of the Deity without presupposing an order of the world. He 
assumed the eternity of the world, of the human race as com- 
prised therein, but he held that mankind had passed through 
various stages of development, and thus might even be said 
to have had several beginnings. He too, like his master, re- 
garded the Deity as the quintessence of all perfection, but 
avoided the objection to which Plato, in not completely identi- 
fying the idea of good with the Deity, had laid himself open. 
His philosophy, in fact, rests on a union of the dialectic of 
Socrates with the views of Anaxagoras. The God of Plato 
and Aristotle is simply the Nous of Anaxagoras, Reason en- 
dowed with being, whom they regard, however, as the creator 
of the universe. The religious and poetical vein of Plato is 
not to be found in Aristotle : he remains ever secure on his 
intellectual heights. He hardly thinks it worth while even 
to mention the anthropomorphic conceptions of the Deity to 
which popular faith still clung, and which Plato combated. 
"With him the Deity is but the object of reverence and 
adoration. 

Aristotle did not aim at giving an exhaustive description 
of the kingdoms of nature : he rather sought to explain them 
with reference to his doctrine of the soul. His observations 
on nature are an introduction to all scientific physiology, and 
cannot be read without admiration. Equally important is his 
exposition of the difference between man and other living 



PLATO'S REPUBLIC. 337 

creatures. His remarks about the distinction between active 
and passive reason, of which the former, autonomous, semi- 
divine, and therefore immortal, is alone to be regarded as 
true, are, in my opinion, the best that could have been made, 
revelation alone excepted. 

The same, if I am not mistaken, might be said of Plato's 
doctrine of the soul. The doctrine of the substantiality and 
immortality of the soul was so far developed by him that no 
philosopher of later times has been able to add anything to it. 
"With the religious intensity peculiar to him, Plato directed his 
gaze upon the future beyond the grave and upon the soul in 
itself. The soul appears at last, stripped of all that could ob- 
scure its essential nature, before the judge, who, no longer in 
danger of deception through eye and ear, beholds, as a spirit, 
the spirit as it really is. 

Thus we can measure the depths and heights of human 
knowledge of divine things in the works of these two philoso- 
phers. Their doctrines cannot be regarded as simply belong- 
ing to them alone : they are the product of the reflective 
power of a whole epoch, which has since then been revived at 
intervals, and has made its appearance in the greatest literary 
productions of all ages. What they offer us is not a fully de- 
veloped doctrine, but a series of the most elevated thoughts. 

The views of these two philosophers with regard to prac- 
tical life, and their relations to one another in this respect, are 
of especial interest. Once severed from the bonds of con- 
temporary politics, Plato explored all the more eagerly the 
conditions of an ideal polity. He has left us two ideals of the 
state. The one, which he develops in the "Laws," is based 
upon a system of originally equal allotments of land. This 
equality has to be rigidly maintained, for to inequality and 
the wish to grow rich Plato attributes all evil passions. The 
anger of the gods should be invoked by means of sacrifices on 
the head of those who buy or sell. The second of Plato's 
schemes, the most important and truly ideal of the two, is ex- 
pounded in the "Kepublic," repeated in the "Timosus," and 
maintained in other books. It is based on a community of 
goods. Its chief object is to provide a system embodying 
the idea of justice and holiness, and possessed of an authority 

22 



338 PHILOSOPHY AND LITERATURE. 

which shall "enable mankind fully to subdue the hundred- 
headed beast that dwells with men." 

The Republic of Plato is not a vague ideal only. It implies 
the most decided opposition to existing political systems, and 
especially to the republic of Athens. From such systems as 
these the philosopher should, as far as possible, cut himself 
adrift. The principle on which the Athenian constitution 
depended — namely, that the possession of land and the right 
to trade and make gain entail the duty of aiding in the na- 
tional defence — was radically opposed by Plato, who wished 
to exclude the agricultural and trading classes from the use of 
arms. This right is reserved for a distinct class, designated 
guardians, that is to say, warriors, whose actions are to be 
entirely under the control of their commanders. The com- 
manders themselves are to be philosophers, that is to say, men 
who aim at nothing but the common good of all and the per- 
fecting of the individual. It may perhaps be said that prin- 
ciples, in the abstract identical with these, formed the ground- 
work of that political system which in the Middle Ages held 
universal sway in Europe. That system combined a subject 
population with a higher class alone possessing the right of 
hearing arms, under a government in which the idea of the 
divine was prominent, and which set itself to raise mankind 
to the level of that idea. In Plato there is the same close al- 
liance between monarchy and priesthood which for centuries 
held dominion over the world. 

In the second book of the "Republic" the subject of edu- 
cation is treated. It is only the guardians Avhose culture is 
discussed ; but this may be accidental. The chief principle 
insisted on is that the Deity should be represented as good 
and true, not as deceitful and mischievous, not only because 
such statements arc false, but because they ruin the youthful 
soul that hears them. In the demand that the divine should 
rule, not only in the individual soul, but also in public life, 
may be discerned a distant approach to the hierarchical ideas 
of later times. The substantiality of the soul, immortality, 
the corrupting influence of the world, and the possibility of 
purification hereafter lead on to the Christian idea, whose 
sway succeeded that of Plato. In both the soul is related to 



ARISTOTLE'S POLITICS. 339 

that which is divine and eternal. The thousand years' wan- 
dering reminds one on the one hand of Egyptian conceptions, 
and on the other of the "Divina Oommedia" of Dante. 

The changes of historical epochs appear first of all in the 
mind of the philosopher who has emancipated himself from 
the dominion of the outward forms of life around him. Aris- 
totle held an acknowledged sway over the philosophic minds 
of the Middle Ages. Bnt in respect of the ideals which men 
set before them in ordinary life, his influence was far less 
powerful than that of Plato. The latter leads us away from 
the existing world : the former leads us back to it and recog- 
nizes the conditions which it implies. Aristotle's conception 
of the state is far more realistic than that of Plato. He even 
disapproves of so complete a withdrawal from politics as that 
in which Plato lived, and holds, on the contrary, that a share 
in political life is indispensable to intellectual development. 
lie brings into prominence those conditions of political power 
which are neglected by Plato — for instance, the advantages of 
a maritime position in respect of trade and commerce — while 
lie accepts the most important bases of civic life, which Plato 
entirely rejects. According to Aristotle the state cannot dis- 
pense with the family, in which everything has to give way 
to the father's will. lie even recognizes slavery as a neces- 
sity. He condemns the custom according to which the Greeks 
made slaves of their conquered compatriots, on the ground 
that all Greeks are originally equal ; but he allows that nature 
itself has destined one half of mankind to subjection, and the 
other half, that which is more capable of thought, to dominion. 
Without slaves domestic life seems to him impracticable ; and 
without domestic life no state can exist. Thus all Plato's 
ideals vanish away. Aristotle combats Plato's views on the 
necessity of an equal division of land with the acute observa- 
tion that, in that case, the number of children must always 
correspond with the number of parents, which is impossible. 
He is still more strongly opposed to the community of goods, 
on the ground that this would deprive mankind of the incen- 
tive to labor which is supplied by the desire to possess prop- 
erty and to transfer it to others. lie points out further that 
disputes would not be avoided by such means, for it is well 



840 PHILOSOPHY ami LITERATURE, 

known that among those who have common possession of any 
pro pert v disputes are the rule. 

While thus holding fast the principles which are the basis 
of all political life, Aristotle fixes his eyes mainly on the po 
litioal Bystem *>t" 1 hr existing Hellenic state. In politics, as 
elsewhere) his oirole of vision is wider than that of Plato. Se 
makes a distinction between the Greeks and the barbaric na- 
tions to the north and cast. A.mong the Northern barbarians, 
says ho, is to be touiul military oourage, which enables them to 
maintain their freedom: among the Eastern, adaptability and 
cleverness, hut a want o\' oourage, so that their freedom is not 
maintained. The Greeks are distinguished by the combina- 
tion of oourage and intellect, so that with all their intellectual 
aotivity they still remain free. Certain remarks on monarchy 

may BCOm to imply that Aristotle had the rising kingdom o( 

Makedonia in his eyes the toaohor o( Alexander the Great 

may well have held such views. But, when wo look more 

closely at what he says, it will be Been that the monarchy rec- 
ommended by Aristotlo has little in common with the Make- 

donian an absolute power indissolubly connected with the 
nation by the righl of hereditary desoent, Aristotle rejects 

the very quality which is the most prominent characteristic 
oi monarchy, namely, heredity, on the ground that the best oi 

monarchs may leave behind him a thoroughly worthless heir, 
lie approves oi monarchy only in ease the nation is unfit to 

govern itself. Prom this point of view the idea of aristocracy 

is connected with that oi monarchy. The chief point in favor 
oi these forms of government is that the idea oi the state can- 
not he grasped and represented by the masses so well as by 

one man or even as by a small body oi persons. The evil 
which Aristotle aims at remedying is the supremacy oi the 
democratic movement, which in his day ruled far and wide in 
Greece. Ele disapproves oi despotism, ami is careful to dis- 
tinguish it from monarchy ; but it appears to him a still greater 
evil that the people should be seduced by demagogues into 
illegal acts; for on such occasions, says he, demagogues be- 
come the minions oi the populace. 

Nevertheless the basis on which everything rests is, accord- 
ing to Aristotle, the community. The community has con- 



AK1SIOTLK. 841 

trol of peaoe and war. Office is not to be conferred by lot, 
but those persons are to bo preferred who are fitted for it 
by wealth or other qualifications. The members of the com- 
munity are not to devote themselves to agriculture or trade; 
their business is to defend and administer the Btate. In his 
Bcheme of education Aristotle will not allow gymnastics, which 
lit. men for the former duty, to predominate, but gives equal 
prominence to music. Music is the very language oi' the 
emotions, and impresses itself on the temperamenl for life. 
l>ut it is only good for education; the full-grown man must, 
never practise it ; he is to devote himself with all his heart 
to public affairs. Here we find Plato and Aristotle again in 
agreement. The grand aim of both philosophers is the forma- 
tion of a sapient spirit, at once desirous and Capable of exer- 
cising power for the common good. The elementary concep- 
tions on which their scheme is based are identical in their 
origin and form one harmonious whole- the divine spirit 

that rules the universe, the human being trained to intellectual 

activity, the supremacy of the wise within the state. 



Chapter IX. 

RELATIONS OF PERSIA AND GREECE DURING THE FIRST HALF 
OF THE FOURTH CENTURY B.C. 

Was the development of ideas which we have traced in 
the previous chapter strong enough to maintain itself against 
the material forces that threatened it with destruction ? The 
importance of the answer to this question must be evident at 
the very first glance. It is characteristic of the age that, while 
the great minds of Greece were opening out new ways for the 
future life of all mankind, the Grecian states wasted their 
strength in separate and individual efforts. The idea of na- 
tionality found no one to represent it. Even the great con- 
test with Persia, which hitherto had kept alive the national 
feeling of Greece, was no longer maintained. The voice of 
opposition was not altogether silenced; on the contrary, it 
still gave forth at intervals a resonant and vigorous note. 
But the concluding events of the Peloponnesian war made it 
clear that this feeling no longer exercised any real influence. 
The centre of the forces that moved the world lay, it must he 
allowed, in the alliance between the Persian monarchy, as it 
appeared in Asia Minor, and the Lakedamionian power, as 
developed through the struggle with Athens. The most 
powerful men of the day were Cyrus the Younger, who rep- 
resented the Acluvmenida* in Asia Minor, and Lysander, who 
was employed in overthrowing democracies wherever he found 
them, and in setting up oligarchies of the Lakcdamionian type. 
All that happened is to be traced to their initiative. The 
forces of the Lakedaunonians and their allies by land and sea 
worked in harmony with the Persian gold which supplied 
their equipment. The vitality possessed by this combination 
was derived from the fact that the Persian satraps and the 
mercenary states of Greece were indispensable to each other. 



CYRUS AND ARTAXERXES. 343 

But in other respects the alliance was fleeting and insecure, 
for neither Cyrus nor Lysander was master of the situation in 
his own country. The latter had many enemies in Sparta, 
and still more in the rest of Greece : the former was subject 
to the orders of the Great King, who naturally followed his 
own interests. 

It was an undertaking of the widest import when Cyrus 
the Younger resolved to place himself, by the aid of Grecian 
arms, on the throne of Persia. A pretext was found in a 
point left unsettled by the constitutional law of that country. 
It was matter of dispute whether the right of succession be- 
longed to the eldest son, or to the son born first after his 
father's accession to the throne. The accession of Xerxes 
had been decided by the fact that he was born during the 
reign of Darius. On similar grounds, when Darius Nothus 
died, Cyrus the Younger, the only son born during his fa- 
ther's reign, claimed the preference over his brother Arta- 
xerxes. On this occasion, as before, the queen was for the 
younger brother, but could not bring her consort over to his 
side. Artaxerxes, surnamed Mnemon, became king; Cyrus 
was appointed satrap of Lydia and the regions that bordered 
on the sea.'- It was no ordinary satrapy which thus fell to 
the lot of the king's son : he was described in his father's 
edict as Karanos, that is, Lord or Sovereign, a special title 
such as was not unfrequently conferred upon satraps related 
to the royal house. But Cyrus was not contented with this 
honor. He considered himself, in virtue of his personal qual- 
ities, more capable than his brother of filling the post of king. 
Artaxerxes, we are told, was of a gentle nature, a lover of 
peace, of genial and placable disposition — a character, in fact, 
well suited to the representative of Ormuzd. Cyrus, on the 
other hand, was ambitious, adventurous, and warlike — a sol- 
dier after the manner of those Greek mercenaries whom he 
attracted in considerable numbers to his flair. 



* The words of Plutarch (Artax. 2), 6 TrptafivrtpoQ airedeix d 1 PaeiXevg, 
'Apra&p&g pETOVopaaOeig, Kvpog 8k AvSiag oarpcnriiQ *«< rwv Itti 0a\ac7<x?/<; 
oTpartiyog, seem to imply that the appointment to the satrapy did not de- 
pend upon the caprice of Artaxerxes. 



344 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

Cyrus not only considered himself worthy of the throne 
and justified in taking possession of it, but he was resolved to 
attempt its conquest. With this object in view, he summoned 
the Lakediemonians to his aid, expressly reminding them of 
the service he had done them in the late war. The Ephors, 
while refusing to declare themselves openly for him, were 
satisfied of the justice of his request. They sent a fleet to 
Cilicia to prevent the satrap of that country, who, like other 
provincial governors, was naturally inclined to support the 
king, from opposing the march of Cyrus. They willingly 
granted permission to the Peloponnesian soldiery to take ser- 
vice with the pretender, and Clearchus, one of the best of 
their captains, was expressly empowered to serve under him. 
Thereupon a very considerable body of troops, thirteen thou- 
sand in number, was collected, and the army, meeting with 
little resistance in Asia Minor, set out on its march, in order 
to win the Persian crown for the ally of Lakedaemon. In 
short, it was through the support of Cyrus that the Lakedse- 
monians had overpowered Greece ; it was through the aid of 
Lakediemon that Cyrus was now to become lord and master 
of Persia. It was, indeed, matter of doubt whether the alli- 
ance of Greek mercenaries with the pretender to the Persian 
throne was likely to exercise a decisive and general influence 
on affairs. Even had the attempt proved successful, had Ar- 
taxerxes been overthrown and Cyrus set up in his place, the 
Greeks would probably have played a subordinate part, like 
that which they performed at the side of the Ilellenizing Pha- 
raohs of Egypt. But it is, nevertheless, undeniable that, even 
under these circumstances, the aspect of the world would have 
undergone a change. Cyrus would have met with opposi- 
tion, and would have remained dependent on Grecian support. 
The Greeks would have retained a certain share in the do- 
minion founded by their aid, and would have extended their 
influence to the farthest parts of Asia. It was a question of 
life and death for the Persian empire whether it would be 
able to resist this attack or not. 

When the two armies met in the plain of Cunaxa, on the 
banks of the Lower Euphrates, it at first appeared probable 
that the expedition of Cyrus would be crowned with success. 



THE TEN THOUSAND. 345 

His Greek allies, familiar as they were with the practice of 
war, and led by an experienced commander, advanced in 
steady array, and made a sudden and vigorous attack upon 
the enemy. The attack was successful. The Persian squad- 
rons opposed to them — hastily collected, ill equipped, and de- 
void of military experience — were routed at once. The battle 
seemed to be won, and Cyrus was saluted as king; but the 
body of picked and disciplined troops, in whose midst was 
Artaxerxes himself, still held together in unshaken order. 
Cyrus had to engage in a personal combat with his brother. 
The historians are full of this duel, which not only supplied 
food for Oriental fancy, but reminded the Greeks of the sto- 
ries of a mythical age, and especially of the combat between 
Eteocles and Polyneikes. The story, however, rests upon no 
solid foundation. All that we can be certain of is that Cyrus 
made a strong impression on the enemy's centre;* that Tis- 
saphernes restored order among his troops, and that in the 
hand-to-hand struggle which ensued Cyrus was killed. 

The object of the expedition was a purely personal one; on 
the death of the pretender it came to an end at once. The 
Grecian leaders fell victims to the treachery of the Persian 
allies of Cyrns, whose only thought was now to make peace 
with the Great King ; but the Greek troops, led by the Athe- 
nian Xenophon, though much reduced in numbers, made 
good their retreat. Their march has won imperishable re- 
nown in the annals of military history as the Retreat of the 
Ten Thousand. It is a proof of the military skill which ev- 
ery individual Greek had made his own, that they were able 
to adapt their tactics to their needs, and to repel the attacks 

* This is to be seen from Diodorus (xiv. 22). This author's account 
of the battle is in other respects more intelligible than that of Xeno- 
phon, -who draws from Ctesias. Plutarch's narrative aims at clearing 
Cyrus from the reproach of rashness : hence he explains the caution of 
Clearchus as fear. The additions which Plutarch, in his life of Arta- 
xerxes, has drawn from Ctesias, sound altogether fabulous, and Plutarch 
himself ends by laughing at them. The story that the Great King was 
wounded and carried off the field, and that order was, in spite of this, 
restored, and the battle won, does not agree with the Persian character, 
as it appears in the battles of Issus and Arbela. Diodorus probably used 
Ephorus as an authority. 



34G PERSIA AND GREECE. 

of light-armed troops. In the faco of the greatest clangers 
and difficulties, and through the midst of savage tribes still 
living in ancestral freedom, they pressed forward on their 
homeward way. At length, as we read in the impressive 
narrative of Xenophon, they beheld the sea, and saluted it 
with joyful shouts of " Thalatta ! Thalatta!" The sea was 
their own, and safety was before them at last. 

This march must not be regarded as a mere adventure. 
Rightly considered, it will be seen to have had results of far- 
reaching importance. The Persian satraps could not avoid 
calling the Lakedcemonians to account for the attack on the 
Great King, in which they had taken part. Tissaphernes, 
who now came again to the front after the fall of Cyrus the 
Younger, renewed the war in Asia Minor. It may be open 
to dispute whether the renewal of hostilities between Persia 
and Lakedcemon was one of the circumstances which enabled 
the Athenians to reorganize their republic in the way de- 
scribed above, but it is certain that it introduced a new phase 
in the relations of Greece and Persia. 

The expedition of the Ten Thousand had at least one re- 
markable result. The old idea of an invasion of Asia awoke 
to new life in the breasts of the Lakedeemonians. Dcrkylli- 
das, at the head of an army composed of Lakedivmonians and 
their allies, took possession of the Troad. Hereupon the two 
satraps, Tissaphernes and Pharnabazus, came to an under- 
standing, and made proposals of peace, but, these proposals 
appearing dangerous to the Lakeihemonians, the ill-feeling 
ripened into the determination to renew the ancient war. 
Agesilaus, the youthful king of Lakedannon, was sent over 
to Asia.' :c ' In this expedition Homeric ideas were revived, 
and Agesilaus, before his departure, offered a sacrifice at Au- 
lis, though not without experiencing opposition from the 
Thebans, his former allies. 

Herodotus, as we have seen, regarded his storv of the Per- 
sian wars as a continuation of the Iliad. The kaked;emoni- 
ans, while carrying on the war against Persia single-handed, 

* The crossing took place in the year 3%. and, as may be inferred 
from Xenophon, in the spring of that year. 



AGESILAUS. 347 

sought to enlist on their side the sympathies aroused by the 
ancient conflict between Greece and Asia. But this concep- 
tion of the struggle was purely imaginary : its real origin was 
very different. The satraps had been eager to avenge upon 
the Lakeda3monians the unsuccessful attack upon Artaxerxes, 
and the Lakedfetnonians now retaliated with all the bitterness 
of personal animosity. Agesilaus was, indeed, no apt repro- 
duction of an Homeric hero: he was small and spare in stat- 
ure, and, moreover, lame of one foot. But, having orig- 
inally had no prospect of succeeding to the throne, he had 
been brought up in all the severity of Spartan discipline. 
He was, consequently, temperate and patient, obedient to the 
orders of his state, ever a friend of her friends, a foe of her 
foes, and unscrupulous in her service, while his generalship, 
cool and crafty, enabled him always to deal a blow where it 
was least expected. The men of Ionia trooped again to the 
standard of a king who traced his descent from Heracles, and 
from their ranks he formed a body of cavalry capable of 
meeting the hitherto invincible horsemen of Persia. Agesi- 
laus infused warlike ardor into all around him. Ephesus 
awoke from torpor, and appeared a very workshop of Mars. 
The opinion gained ground that the Persians, individually, 
were no match for the Hellenes, and were consequently 
doomed to defeat — an opinion which long ago had emboldened 
the Greeks to encounter the whole weight of the Persian 
monarchy. A considerable naval force was, at the demand 
of Agesilaus, stationed on the Asiatic coast. The enthusi- 
asm of ancient days was revived. 

Agesilaus was at first successful, and won two victories in 
Phrygia and Lydia over Tissaphernes. These victories not 
only gave the Greeks the upper hand, but brought about the 
destruction of their chief opponent. Tissaphernes lost the 
confidence of the king, and, at the instigation of the Queen- 
Mother, still, as of old, his enemy, atoned for his misfortune 
with his life. After defeating Tissaphernes, Agesilaus at- 
tacked Pharnabazus with equal success. In a battle against 
him, which he won by means of a surprise, some survivors of 
the Ten Thousand, led by a general whom Agesilaus had 
placed over them, won the honors of the day. Agesilaus had 



34S PERSIA AND GREECE. 

already entered into friendly relations with a distinguished 
Persian named Spithridates, and with Otys, king of Paphla- 
gonia, and had brought about a matrimonial connection be- 
tween them, as the best means of damaging the power o{ 
Persia. Thus, victorious in Asia Minor, welcomed by the 
Ionians, supported by a fleet which gave him command of 
the sea, and sure of the unfailing adherence of Sparta, he oc- 
cupied a position of great importance, and seriously endan- 
gered the power of the Great King. 

Tut, as we have often had to remark before, the alliance 
between Greeks and barbarians showed itself evanescent. In 
the battle with Pharnabazus, who was in the habit oi carrying 
all his treasures with him during a campaign, a large amount 
of plunder was taken. The Paphlagonian cavalry made an 
attempt, to carry this away, but the Lakedannonians were as 
eager for gold and booty as the barbarians. They took from 
the Paphlagonians as much as they could, in order to sell it 
to the merchants who followed the army for the purpose 
of buying spoil. Indignant at this conduct, the followers of 
Spithridates and Otys deserted the Greek army, and an al- 
liance so full of promise for the future was thus dissolved. 
Nevertheless, Age&ilans would still have inflicted severe losses 
on the Persians, had not the latter, in accordance with their 
ancient policy, turned to the Greeks at home. They had 
learned from the Laked;emonians how Greeks were to be met 
in war. The method which they had found so efficacious in 
their struggle with Athens, an alliance with the enemies of 
that city among the Hellenes, was now adopted against the 
Lakedanuonians, when the latter threatened to endanger their 
power. The Lakedsemonians in alliance with Cyrus had 
made an unsuccessful attempt to interfere in the internal af- 
fairs of the Persian empire. But the Persians now succeeded 
in shaking the power of Lakedannon by interfering in the 
internal affairs of Greece, and stirring up hostile feelings 
against Sparta on every side. Xenophon informs us how 
much money was expended by Tithraustes, the successor of 
Tissaphernes, in decoying away from allegiance to Sparta 
some of the leading men of Argos, Corinth, and evenTh 
lie was fully aware of the misunderstanding between Sparta 



THE CORINTHIAN WAR. 349 

and her allies, which had already shown itself in the oppo- 
sition of Thebes to the sacrifice performed by Agesilaus at 
Anlis. Athens, too, had recovered sufficient strength to join 
the anti-Spartan league thus formed, and needed no bribe to 
stimulate her activity. 

It was again a territorial dispute between Locris and Phokis 
that lit the flames of civil war. The Thebans hastened to the 
aid of one of the combatants, the Lakcdiemonians to that of 
the other. Ljsander, the man who had made the league with 
Persia which should have shifted the dominion of the world, 
was the first victim of the struggle. He fell in a battle 
against the Boeotians, and all Greece was stirred by the event. 
Meanwhile danger threatened Sparta from another quarter. 
Conon, one of the Athenian commanders, had after the defeat 
of -tEgospotami made his escape to Cyprus, where the G reek 
element was still powerful. "With his assistance, a fleet was 
equipped in the Phoenician ports, which remained faithful to 
the king. The Lakedamionians, hitherto reckoned as the 
king's allies, were now regarded as his most dangerous foes. 
The allied Phoenicians and Athenians were more than a match 
for the fleet of Agesilaus, the command of which he had in- 
trusted to his brother-in-law reisander. A battle took place 
oil Cnidus, in August, 394. At the first sight of the Athe- 
nian ships, which formed the van of the opposing fleet, the 
allies of the Lakedamionians took to flight. Peisander, think- 
ing it shame to fly, sought his fate and fell. 

About the same time the quarrel was embittered by a san- 
guinary collision in continental Hellas. Agesilaus had been 
obliged to give up his great undertaking in Asia. He had 
crossed the Hellespont, for a direct passage across the J'ga^an 
was no longer possible, and returned to Greece. Here he 
won a decided victory over the allies at Coroneia, but the 
blow did not restore the old supremacy of Sparta. In Corinth 
the opposite faction won the upper hand, and war broke out 
between that city and Sparta. Success was equally balanced 
until Iphicrates came to the front. This man, an Athenian 
by birth and a soldier of fortune, had gathered round him a 
force of bold mercenaries. His soldiers, drilled and equipped 
after the Thracian fashion, according to methods adopted as 



350 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

early as the Retreat of the Ton Thousand, formed a body of 
light-armed troops called peltasts, and proved more than a 
match for the Spartan hoplites in the open field. It was 
Persian gold that produced these results, for the Sytiedrion at 
Corinth received money from Persia, and took Iphicrates into 
its pay. It was Persian gold again that enabled ConOD to re- 
store the Long Walls at Athens. 

A few rapid but crushing blows had thus entirely changed 
the aspect oi affairs, and destroyed the Lakedsemonian power 
in continental Greece. The military superiority of Sparta 
disappeared, and with it all her prestige. >»'or was this all. 
The gravest anxiety was felt in Sparta when Athens began to 
recover herself, and to set about the restoration of her ancient 
maritime supremacy. In this double catastrophe the Lake* 
daunonians felt that their very existence was at stake, and a 
complete revolution in their policy was the result. There had 
always been a party in Sparta which disapproved the Mar 
with Persia. This party now bestirred itself again. Its mem- 
bers declared that the only escape from the troubles in which 
the state was involved lay in peace with Persia, since all the 
misfortunes which they had experienced were due to the 
breach with the king. Antalkidas, the leader of this party, 
had attached himself to Lysander, and maintained his princi- 
ples throughout all the recent troubles. His persistence at 
length obtained a hearing, and he was sent first to Asia 
Minor, and then to the Persian court at Susa, in order to 
restore peace. 

The conditions which were found satisfactory and accepta- 
ble to both sides deserve examination. The most important 
of them was that which concerned the division of power be- 
tween Sparta and Persia. After the turn which naval affairs 
had taken, Sparta could no longer maintain the authority 
which she had won on the coasts of Asia Minor and in the 
Archipelago. On the contrary, the danger was that the 
supremacy in those districts might pass into the hands of her 
foes, especially of Athens, now fast recovering her position. 
It was therefore to the interest of Sparta herself that the 
supremacy should be restored to the Great King. For Persia 
this was an enormous gain. The maritime districts, which 



PEACE OF ANTALKIDAS. 35 1 

for years had been the object of continuous war, became hers 
without any exertion on her part, simply in consequence of 
the mutual rivalries of the Greeks. The complications in 
Cyprus caused some difficulty, but since the Athenians had 
won the upper hand here as elsewhere, the Spartans without 
much hesitation resolved to acquiesce in the restoration of 
Persian dominion in Cyprus. In one point only they showed 
some respect for Athens. It will be remembered that the 
Athenian dominion over Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros was of 
very ancient date. Accordingly, as her consent was wanted 
for the peace, it was thought well to leave Athens in posses- 
sion of the three islands. But all the Greek towns in Asia 
Minor were to be under the Great King. In a word, the 
prizes for which Greece and Persia had struggled so long 
were given up by Lakedsemon to her ancient enemy, and care 
was taken that no other party should be able to claim them 
for some time to come. 

But this was only one side of the peace. Lakcdamion, see- 
ing herself thwarted and endangered by the close alliance be- 
tween Argos and Corinth, and by the fairly compact power 
of Thebes, obtained from the Great King the decision that 
all towns in Greece should be autonomous. In this direction 
the ideas of Brasidas had long ago pointed, and Sparta had 
declared the independence of the colonies and subject districts 
to be the principle for which she took the field. The revolu- 
tion which had proved impracticable on the earlier occasion, 
Sparta now endeavored to carry out over a wider area. It 
was not, however, Athens that was aimed at, for her league 
had not been re-established, but Thebes, which exercised a 
supremacy over the confederation of free Boeotian cities, of 
which she was the head. This supremacy could no longer be 
suffered to exist. In its suppression the Great King was in- 
terested, for it was only from such confederations that danger 
to the newly established state of things could arise, but the 
chief gain was on the side of Sparta, which would thus be 
enabled to get rid of a dangerous rival to her power. She 
persuaded the Great King to threaten with active hostility 
any state that should oppose the arrangement just concluded. 
Strange complications of policy ! Lakedimnon, with the sup- 



352 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

port of Persian gold, had overthrown Athens. Then, when 
the dispute between Sparta and Persia occurred, it was main- 
ly through the exertions of Athens that forces were brought 
into the field against the former, to cope with which her 
strength proved insufficient. To avoid the destruction that 
was impending, Sparta again appealed to Persia for aid. In 
this way the decisive voice in the affairs of Greece came to be 
that of the Great King and his satraps in Asia Minor. lie 
now allied himself with Lakedsemon, in order to introduce a 
system into Greece which should render hopeless any attempt 
to build up a compact political union. In order to save her- 
self, LakedflBUQOn was willing to see the rest of Greece de- 
stroyed. \'y the first article of the peace the immediate do- 
minion of Persia was widened to no small extent. By the 
second, Persia obtained a sort of suzerainty over Greece. 
This was the upshot of the Peace of Antalkidas (387 B.C.). 
The power of the Greeks in Asia was thereby given up, and 
a system of extreme decentralization was established in Hellas 
itself. Sparta, however, and Sparta alone, retained her ancient 
preponderance. 

At first all seemed to go well. No sooner did the Spartans 
perform the usual sacrifices on the frontier, preparatory to an 
invasion of the Theban territory, than the Thebans found 
themselves obliged to surrender their authority over Bceotia. 
The Spartans followed up this stroke by warning the Corin- 
thians to expel the Argivc garrison from their city, and the 
Argives to withdraw their forces. Thereupon the garrison 
retired, and the exiled aristocrats were enabled to return. 
Lastly, Mantineia was compelled to dissolve its union; the 
inhabitants thenceforward lived, as before, in villages. The 
Spartans everywhere took up the cause of the weaker party, 
for instance, that of Platsea in Bceotia, and of Pisa in Elis. 
All who belonged to this category thus became their friends. 
They re-established the Peloponnesian League, and ruled over 
it unopposed. But with one city, namely, Thebes, the peace 
was by no means secure, and here it was that a rising took 
place which proved fatal to the Spartan power. "We come to 
that page of history on which the names of Thebes and Epa- 
meinondas arc most prominently inscribed. 



LEONTIADES AND TIICEBIDAS. 353 

In Thebes the oligarchs and democrats, under their respec- 
tive leaders, were engaged in a deadly struggle. A Spartan 
army under the command of Phoebidas, destined to carry out 
the stipulations of the peace in Chalkidike, passed by the city. 
This gave the oligarchs their opportunity. At the invitation 
of their leader, Leontiades, who wished to gain the support of 
Sparta, Phoebidas surprised and occupied the citadel of the 
Cadmeia.* It is not necessary to assume that he had direct 
commands from Sparta to undertake this enterprise. Agesi- 
laus once remarked that a general was not forbidden to act 
occasionally on his own initiative ; the only point was whether 
his act was expedient or not. Now nothing could have ap- 
peared more expedient than the seizure of the citadel of 
Thebes. That citadel formed a strong position on the great 
road to the north, and Leontiades had expressly proposed that, 
so soon as the oligarchy should be restored in Thebes, the 
Thebans should unite with the Spartans. Phcebidas himself 
is described to us as an ambitious man, desirous of distinguish- 
ing himself, but lacking in real caution. 

The result of the event was what nright have been foreseen. 
The democrats, expelled by the victorious oligarchs, found 
refuge in Athens, as Thrasybulus on a former occasion had 
found refuge in Thebes. Some } r ears, however, elapsed be- 
fore they were able to return. At length, aided by their ac- 
quaintances in the city, they came back, and, with mingled 
ferocity and cunning, rid Thebes of the Polemarchs who ruled 
her.f This event brought prominently forward the two men 

* Curtius places the occurrence in 01. 00, 2 = 483 B.C., Clinton in 01. 
99,3. 

t Plutarch, in the " Life of Pelopidas, ,, chaps. 7-12, and in the treatise 
on the Daemon of Socrates, gives a detailed narrative of this event, which 
it is impossible to read without interest. I confess that I can sec in Lis 
story nothing hut a romantic and highly colored account of a simple 
event. "What Xenophon tells us is no doubt the truth, and even he 
found different versions of the story already in existence. The simplest 
of these is perhaps contained in the words " wr Kuifiarrrur tlnkSavras rove 
ifubl MiXujva airoKTUvat tovq TroXffjLapxovc " (Xen. "Hell." V. 4, 7). That 
there was a banquet is certain ; whether the murderers really introduced 
themselves in the guise of women is very doubtful ; as for the rest of the 
story, I cannot bring myself to believe it. The event took place in 01. 

23 



354 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

whose names are imperishably linked with that of Thebes, 
Pelopidas and Epameinondas. The former led the returning 
democrats, the latter prepared the Theban youth to aid them 
in their attempt when the decisive moment should arrive. 

Epameinondas was descended from a family which traced 
its origin to the times of Cadmus, a family of limited means, 
but widely known for hospitality. Among others a disciple 
of Pythagoras, whose school had been dispersed in all direc- 
tions, just then sought refuge in Thebes, and became an in- 
mate of the house. Epameinondas, in his youth, took part 
in all that Hellenic education demanded, but grew up princi- 
pally under the care of this old philosopher, whose instruc- 
tion he preferred to every other amusement. Under him 
he probably acquired a habit for which he was much com- 
mended, the habit, that is, of listening with self-restraint and 
attention to every one who spoke to him, and of withholding 
his objections till the speaker had concluded his remarks. 
His was one of those characters in which moderation and 
temperance, prudence and self-respect, a quiet and thoughtful 
judgment, seem to be innate. Such qualities cannot fail to 
impress all who come in contact with them, and to secure for 
their possessor a certain moral authority. Epameinondas was 
so poor that he is said to have been obliged to remain at home 
when his cloak was at the fuller's, but the uprightness which 
he showed in all positions of trust procured for him, espe- 
cially in the conduct of financial affairs, a leading position. 
The excesses of Boeotian festivity had no attraction for him. 
He was so taciturn that one of his friends remarked he was 
acquainted with no one who knew so much and said so little : 
but what he said was so much to the point as to become 
proverbial. In his military exercises he paid attention, not so 
much to the development of bodily strength as to activity 
and the proper use of weapons. He is said to have bidden 
the young men about him not to take credit for their strength, 
but rather to count it shame that they tamely endured the do- 
minion of the Lakcdeemonians in spite of their own superior- 



100, 2, in the winter of the year 379 B.C. (Plutarch, " Pelopidas," chap. 
2 : cf. Xen. " Hell." v. 4, 14). 



PELOPIDAS AND EPAMEINONDAS. 355 

ity. Even a narrow and exclusive patriotism can give birth 
to feelings of enthusiasm, provided that it summon the tradi- 
tions of a glorious past to aid it in shaking off the opprobrium 
of the present. Such patriotism is fostered by rivalry with 
neighboring states, especially when the latter are of overpow- 
ering strength. The splendid personal qualities of Epamei- 
nondas, his culture, his zeal in gymnastic exercises, his mili- 
tary talents, his generalship, so inventive and original as to 
amount to genius, shone with peculiar lustre owing to the 
fact that, before all things, he was a good Theban. 

Pelopidas, though belonging to a wealthy and distinguished 
family, attached himself closely to Epameinondas. Through 
his friendship Epameinondas was, as it were, raised to an 
equality with the class to which Pelopidas belonged. On 
one occasion Epameinondas refused to leave Pelopidas when 
grievously wounded, determined that at any rate the enemy 
should not have his corpse. He made use of the influence 
gained by such devotion to draw his friend over to his views. 
In the undertaking through which Thebes was freed Pelopi- 
das was the most prominent figure. But his success would 
not have been permanent had not the youth of Thebes been 
brought up under the influence of Epameinondas, and pre- 
pared to take advantage of the occasion. 

In circumstances where the general interests of Hellas were 
at stake, Greek patriotism was seldom active. It was promi- 
nent where the interests of separate states were concerned ; 
and among the states of Greece Thebes was not unimportant. 
She could claim to be regarded as the third city of Hellas, 
and it was due to the efforts of these two friends that this 
claim became a reality. On the department of military af- 
fairs they bestowed the most attentive study. War was now 
becoming a science and an art, and from Agesilaus himself, 
in his repeated invasions of Boeotia, they are said to have 
learned much. Their primary object was to overthrow the 
autonomy established by the Peace of Antalkidas. They re- 
covered their hold upon Platsea, and in a short time we find 
the Bceotarchs reappearing as Theban officials. 

Plutarch relates a conversation between Epameinondas and 
Agesilaus, which sets clearly before us the importance of this 



356 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

dispute. To the question whether Thebes would leave the 
cities of Boeotia free, Epameinondas answered with the ques- 
tion whether Sparta would give the Messenians their freedom. 
The weapon which the Peace of Antalkidas had placed in the 
hands of Sparta was thereby turned against Sparta herself. 
The question could only be decided by an appeal to arms. 
The Thebans knew well how to develop the tendency to 
comradeship which was common to all Greeks, and is based 
upon personal honor ; and the result was the Sacred Band. 
The Spartan hoplites found their match in the Theban infan- 
try, while to the Theban cavalry they had nothing to oppose. 
The Spartan king, Cleombrotus, stung by the suspicion of 
leanings towards Thebes, determined upon battle under the 
excitement of a banquet. The Thebans had the advantage 
of a leader in Epameinondas, whose cool judgment enabled 
him to take advantage of every opportunity. On the plain 
of Leuctra the Spartans were, for the first time in history, 
completely defeated (July 7 or 8, b.c. 371). 

In the two Theban leaders, as we have seen, there throbbed 
a pulse for the greatness of their state, which urged them, 
even against the will of their fellow-countrymen, to the bold- 
est efforts. The year after the battle they undertook, chiefly 
at the invitation of the Peloponnesians, an invasion of Laconia. 
In this attempt it would appear that they exceeded their pow- 
ers, for in the army there were many who raised their voices 
against the campaign. This, however, only spurred them to 
greater exertions, in order to anticipate a change of feeling 
which might force them to give way to leaders whose opin- 
ions differed from their own. The allies joined forces at Sel- 
lasia, and marched down the valley of the Eurotas. The Spar- 
tan ladies were horror-struck when they beheld the smoke of 
burning villages driving over the plain. Agesilaus is said to 
have been unable to conceal his admiration when he saw 
Epameinondas, but it was due to his courageous resistance 
that the Thebans met with a rebuff at the Hippodrome in 
front of Sparta. This, however, did not hinder the restora- 
tion of Messenia. To the music of Argive and Boeotian flutes 
a new city arose on Ithome, the scene of Messenian exploits 
in days of old. The Perioeki and Helots, whom it was no 



ATTITUDE OF ATHENS. 357 

longer possible to distinguish from Messenians, were admitted 
to all the privileges of the latter. 

This done, Pelopidas and Epameinondas returned to Thebes, 
and were actually brought to trial for acting without orders. 
"Let us then set up a column," said Epameinondas, "with an 
inscription that I was condemned because I compelled you to 
conquer at Leuctra ; because I made all Greece free in one 
day ; because I restored Messenia, and surrounded Sparta with 
a perpetual blockade." In words like these we see that lofty 
self-respect which in later times has been regarded as a dis- 
tinctive feature of the Roman character. 

At this time everything in Greece depended on the attitude 
of Athens. It appeared to be her interest, at a crisis so disas- 
trous to Sparta, to form an alliance with the enemies of her 
ancient foe. A popular assembly was held, in which the 
Athenians were reminded of the wrongs which they had re- 
peatedly suffered at the hands of Spartans, and of the con- 
stant efforts of Sparta to undermine the greatness of Athens. 
But these times were long past, and even a popular assembly 
can pass resolutions in which passion has no part. In Athens 
the ancient hate of Sparta gave way before a new-born jeal- 
ousy of Thebes. The Athenians felt that if they made com- 
mon cause with the Thebans to crush Lakedsemo'n, their own 
destruction at the hands of the former would be the speedy 
and certain consequence. They therefore resolved to support 
the Lakeda?monians with all their force, a step which at once 
checked the progress of Thebes. In the conflict that arose, 
it was a matter of no small moment that Sparta still possessed 
the benefit of Persian aid. An envoy of the Phrygian satrap, 
Ariobarzanes, appeared at Delphi. His primary object was 
to establish a compromise. This failing, he made use of the 
money with which he was abundantly provided, to raise an 
army of mercenaries in aid of Sparta. In this manner an al- 
liance was formed between Persia, Athens, and Sparta, which 
seemed calculated to restore the prestige of Sparta, so griev- 
ously shaken by Thebes. To escape destruction, the Thebans 
hit upon the idea of claiming Persian help for themselves 
(368-7 b.c). Such reversals of policy had already taken 
place in Greek history. A similar step had been taken by 



358 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

Athens during the Peloponnesian war, and by Sparta in the 
time of her greatest peril. 

Even Pelopidas so far overcame his pride as to seek help 
in person at the court of Artaxerxes. The first Persian war 
was not yet forgotten, and the remark of Pelopidas, that the 
present enemies of Thebes had been of old the most formi- 
dable opponents of the Great King, won him admission to 
the Persian court. It was, moreover, clear that the Persians 
would never have anything to fear from Thebes ; while, on 
the other hand, Athens, now in alliance with Sparta, was dis- 
playing a restless and dangerous activity. She had restored 
the ancient league of Delos. The recollection of her former 
greatness impelled her, as of old, towards the coast of Asia 
Minor, and fostered in Athenian bosoms a spirit of hostility 
to Persia. It might be said that the Spartans were now rather 
the allies of the Athenians, than Athens the ally of Sparta. 

It thus came about that the influence over Grecian affairs, 
which Persia constantly exerted herself to maintain, now en- 
tered upon a new phase. The king broke off his connection 
with Sparta, and lent a willing ear to the proposals of Pelopi- 
das. The Persians had hitherto rejected the Theban claim 
that the enactments of the Peace of Antalkidas should be ex- 
tended to Messenia. The king now made amends by issuing 
an edict that Messenia" should be recognized as independent 
of Sparta, while at the same time he warned the Athenian 
fleet to put back again into port. A Persian ambassador ac- 
companied Pelopidas back again to Thebes in order to prove 
the authenticity of this edict by showing the seal appended 
to it. We are not informed that the execution of the king's 
commands was supported by presents of money, and we may 
infer the contrary from the fact that the Arcadians, who had 
taken part in the embassy to Persia, complained of the pov- 
erty of the king's treasury, and declared that not even a grass- 
hopper could find shelter in the fabled shade of his golden 
plane-tree. Nevertheless, the declaration of the king, whom 
the Greeks were now accustomed to regard as a sort of ar- 
biter in their disputes, was of great importance to Thebes, 
and enabled her to establish an understanding with Argos 
and Messenia. 



TREATY BETWEEN PERSIA AND THEBES. 359 

Tegea and a great part of Arcadia were also allied with 
Thebes, but another part of Arcadia, under the leadership of 
Mantineia, had deserted the Theban league. In order to re- 
cover the latter, Epameinondas again took the field. A bat- 
tle took place at Mantineia in which all the forces of Greece 
met in conflict. A final decision seemed to hang upon the 
event. Epameinondas displayed all the foresight and mili- 
tary talent peculiar to him, and was on the point of winning 
the day, when he was mortally wounded by an arrow. He 
would not allow it to be withdrawn until he had heard that 
the Thebans were victorious. He died as a Theban, for the 
independence of Thebes — we can hardly say for the inde- 
pendence of Hellas. 

By means of the recent treaty between Persia and Thebes 
the influence of the former upon the internal affairs of Greece 
was advanced a step further, and was only confirmed by the 
issue of the battle, the result of which, especially owing to the 
death of Epameinondas, was by no means decisive. Xenophon, 
who breaks off his history at this point, expresses an opinion 
that a balance of power among the Grecian cities and states 
still existed. Athens had been prevented by Sparta from 
usurping the hegemony of Hellas. Sparta had been thwarted 
by Athens and Thebes. Thebes was now held in check by 
Athens and Sparta. This state of things prevented the for- 
mation of a compact power, or even the union of all Grecian 
states in a common confederation. The more powerful states 
were constantly engaged in warfare with each other, and 
dragged the weaker into the conflict. Their only aim was to 
get possession of the means which enabled them to overpower 
their neighbors. Once accustomed to draw subsidies from 
abroad, the Spartans scrupled not to accept payment from 
those who were engaged in rebellion against the king. When 
the king gave judgment against them in the question of Mes- 
senia and formed an alliance with Thebes, the Spartans felt 
no further obligation towards him. It is a blot on the char- 
acter of Agesilaus that, after being the first to undertake a 
great war against the Persians, he now entered the service of 
a tyrant of Egypt. His assistance conferred some solidity on 
the Egyptian revolt, established Nectanebus on the Egyptian 



3G0 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

throne, and confirmed the independence of Egypt for some 
years. 

A complete change in the political situation had not been 
contemplated by Agesilans. The chief motive of his action 
was the necessity under which the Spartans lay of obtaining 
extraneous assistance against their Hellenic neighbors. Such 
assistance Agesilaus provided for them. Nectanebus dis- 
missed him with a considerable present of money. Agesilaus 
died on the way home (35S e.g.), but the money which he 
brought with him reached Laconia, and the Spartans were 
again enabled to play an active part in the wars of Greece. 
The anti-Spartan league was still in existence, and found the 
support it needed in the restored power of Messenia. The 
warfare never ceased. Diodorus mentions five battles in one 
year. In the first of these the Lakcdannonians won a victory 
over a far more numerous body of the enemy, while in the 
three following battles the allies had the upper hand. The 
fifth, however, and the most important of all, was a victory 
for Lakedaeraon. An armistice was the result. 

We have already pointed out the danger to all Hellas in- 
volved in the selfishness which produced the Peace of Antal- 
kidas. 13 ut the state which suffered most was Sparta herself. 
She bled to death from the wounds which she thought to in- 
dict upon others. Sparta was, indeed, no longer the Sparta 
of Lycurgus. The introduction of the Perioeki and Helots 
into the army, which had lately been determined on, was at 
variance with his ideas. Moreover, so many of the Spartiates 
had fallen in the late wars that the old democratic aristocracy 
which they formed had no longer any vitality. Aristotle rec- 
ognizes only one thousand families of the ancient Spartiates ; 
and their landed possessions, the very groundwork of their 
state and its discipline, had in great measure passed into the 
hands of women. The time when Sparta could maintain her 
supremacy single-handed was gone by. Athens, at this time 
allied with Sparta, could on her side no longer maintain the 
restored naval league. When she attempted to revive her 
old supremacy, Chios, Rhodes, and Cos, probably with the as- 
sistance of the Carian despot, Mausolus, rose in rebellion 
against her. On the outskirts of the league, Byzantium was 



DECLINE IN THE POWER OF GREECE. 3G1 

ill revolt. Athens was no longer strong enough to reduce 
the rebels to obedience. In an attack upon Chios, Chabrias 
perished. He might have saved himself by swimming, but 
held it unworthy of him to leave his ship, and preferred to 
die on board with arms in his hand. Chares was not the man 
to replace the fallen admiral, and Athens had to content her- 
self with retaining the smaller islands in her league. A power 
so mutilated was very different from that which had been 
once so formidable. 

This decay in the power of Athens and Sparta, and of 
Greece in general, cannot be attributed to want of energy. 
The science and practice of war, both by land and sea, had 
never been carried to a higher pitch of excellence. The gen- 
erals mentioned to us by name appear, without exception, to 
have been experienced and thoughtful commanders. But, as 
we have seen even in Pelopidas, they had no idea of a great 
confederation which could embrace all individualities. It has 
been already remarked that patriotic feelings were found only 
in connection with separatism, a national peculiarity which it 
has been reserved for the history of Germany to repeat. The 
development of military strength in individual states, and the 
weakness of the nation at large, were to each other as cause 
and effect. With the feebleness of the Greek republics the 
development of the mercenary system went hand in hand. 
Mercenaries, ready to serve any one for pay, were the only 
troops now worthy of the name of soldiers. 

At this epoch the Persian power again rose to a dangerous 
height. After a sanguinary and fratricidal contest, Artaxerxcs 
Ochus had ascended the throne of Persia (359-8 e.g.). Arta- 
bazus, who, as Karanos of Asia Minor, held a position supe- 
rior to that of an ordinary satrap, undertook to make himself 
independent, and, with the aid of Greek mercenaries, was at 
first successful in repelling the satraps sent against him. A 
corps of Thebans were his chief support. The king defeated 
the rebellious satrap by sending a sum of three hundred tal- 
ents to the Thebans, who thereupon deserted their employer. 
Artabazus was forced to flv, and took refuge with Philip, king 
of Makedonia. 

The growing power of Persia caused much anxiety to the 



3G2 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

Greeks, and it was proposed at Athens to take the lead of the 
Hellenic race in a national war against the Persians. But 
Demosthenes, the leading orator of his time, declared himself 
against the proposal. He objected, and doubtless with good 
reason, that the Persian king, if attacked, would raise enemies 
against the Athenians in Greece itself and imperil the safety 
of Athens. Demosthenes refrained from opposing feelings so 
deeply rooted in the national mind as those which centred 
round a war with Persia, but he gave it as his opinion that 
Athens must first of all muster all her resources and make her- 
self formidable, for not till then would she find allies for the 
great undertaking. Regarded independently of these consid- 
erations, the occasion was no unfit one for attacking the Per- 
sians. Not only did Egypt under Nectanebus continue to 
maintain a hostile attitude towards the king, but just at this 
moment Phoenicia, too, broke out in revolt. It is not clear 
whether the rebellion began with a casual insurrection, or 
owing to a formal resolution in Tripolis. At any rate, the 
Phoenicians struck a close alliance with Nectanebus, and de- 
stroyed the pleasure-house, or paradeisos, in which the Per- 
sian magnates, when they visited the country, used to reside. 
Many Persians who had been guilty of acts of violence were 
murdered. The neighboring satraps were not slow in mak- 
ing war upon the rebels, but their attacks were repelled by 
the Prince of Sidon, who had summoned to his aid a strong 
body of Greek mercenaries from Egypt. Cyprus, too, joined 
the league. The nine so-called kings of the cities of Cyprus 
hoped, through the Phoenician insurrection, to obtain their 
own independence, and therefore joined in the revolt. If the 
Greeks had taken part in these movements the Persian power 
would have been exposed to great danger. 

Just the opposite, however, took place. The Prince of Ca- 
ria, summoned by Artaxerxes against Cyprus, not only col- 
lected a goodly fleet, but also an army, over which the Athe- 
nian Phokion was placed in command. Phokion had little 
difficulty in reducing the Cyprian princes. At this moment 
Ochus had brought together a great force by sea and land, 
with which he hoped to subdue both Egypt and Phoenicia. 
At sight of this army, which made as formidable an appear- 



1 



THE EGYPTIAN REVOLT. 363 

ance as any by which the Phoenicians had been defeated on 
previous occasions, the Prince of Sidon lost courage. He 
resolved, without further scruple, to betray his allies, the 
Egyptians, to the king, for it was only by paying this price 
that he could hope for forgiveness. He sent the king secret 
information that he was in a position to give him the best 
opening for the conquest of Egypt, being on good terms with 
many in the country, especially with the dwellers on the 
coasts. Ochus is said to have hesitated for a moment, gladly 
as he heard these proposals, before accepting them by stretch- 
ing out his right hand — the form which was necessary to ren- 
der his acceptance valid. The envoy declared that, if this 
were not done, his master would consider himself released 
from all his promises, whereupon Artaxerxes Ochus gave the 
desired assurance. Sidon was betrayed to the Persians by a 
horrible act of treachery on the part of its own prince, who 
had won over the Greek mercenaries to insure success for his 
plan. In the midst of violence and treason the inhabitants 
of Sidon once again displayed the unconquerable resolution 
of the ancient Phoenician race. They had burned their ships 
in order that no one might withdraw himself by flight from 
the duties of defence. Now that the foe was within their 
walls, they shut themselves up and set fire to their houses. 
The number of the dead was reckoned as high as forty thou- 
sand. In spite of his plighted word, King Ochus put to death 
the prince who had betrayed his city. 

His death did not interfere with the campaign against 
Egypt, for which Ochus had already made the most extensive 
preparations. Special embassies were sent to demand aid of 
the Greek cities. Athens and Sparta promised to remain 
neutral. The importance of this is clear when we recollect 
that it was these two cities which had set up and maintained 
the independence of Egypt. The Thebans and the Argives 
were less scrupulous. They had no hesitation in sending 
their hoplites to help the Persians against Egypt. The Ar- 
gives were led by Nicostratus, a man of enormous bodily 
strength, who imagined himself a second Heracles, and went 
to battle clothed in a lion's skin and armed with a club. The 
mercenary troops from Greece and Asia Minor, who sailed to 



364 PERSIA AND GREECE. 

the aid of Artaxerxes, formed together a body of ten thou- 
sand men. "When we consider that the mercenaries of Greek 
descent who had come from Egypt also went over to the 
king, the success of the latter may fairly be attributed not so 
much to the Persian force as to the Greeks by whom he was 
assisted. 

It resulted from the general position of affairs that Xecta- 
nebus on his side, too, sought aid from the Greeks. He had 
made all possible preparations, but, unfortunately, he neither 
possessed the qualities requisite for the control of so large a 
force, nor could he bear to stand aside and leave the command 
to the mercenary captains who were capable of exercising it. 
In spite of their promise, some Spartans and Athenians had 
come to his aid, it appears, without the authority of their gov- 
ernments, and their leaders, Diophantus of Athens and La- 
mius of Sparta, would have been in a position to rescue !Nec- 
tanebus if he had left them freedom of action. When he 
retreated to Memphis it became impossible to defend Pelu- 
sium. Among the Hellenes on either side a strange kind of 
rivalry made its appearance. Although in hostile camps, 
those on the one side sought to excel those on the other in 
feats of arms. Nevertheless, a good understanding between 
the Greek mercenaries and the Orientals, whose cause they 
had espoused, could not long be maintained. Moreover, the 
old prestige of the Persian monarch recovered its influence 
with the Egyptians. They were assured that the sooner they 
got rid of the Greek garrisons which occupied their fortresses 
the more easily would they recover favor with the king. It 
had always been so. At every decisive crisis the longing to 
gain the king's favor had led to the submission of his rebel- 
lious subjects. The Persians were now laying siege to Bubas- 
tus. The Egyptians betook themselves to the eunuch Bagoas, 
who possessed the chief authority in the king's council, and 
begged him to use his influence with the king on their behalf. 
The Greeks, on their side, discovered this intrigue, and com- 
municated with Mentor, the commander of the Greek merce- 
naries in the pay of Persia, who had already distinguished 
himself at the capture of Sidon. 

It must be allowed that the course taken by the Egyptians 



THE EGYPTIAN REVOLT. 305 

was but natural. The Oriental nations who fought their bat- 
tles with Grecian arms were well advised in resolving to come 
to terms with each other and drive out the Greeks. But this 
time the attempt was unsuccessful. Mentor promised his aid 
to the Greek garrison, and when, in accordance with the 
wishes of the Egyptians in the town, a body of Persians 
inarched in to expel the Greeks, a union of the Greek forces 
in the two camps took place. A hand-to-hand conflict result- 
ed in the defeat of the Persians and Egyptians. Bagoas was 
in the greatest danger, and owed his life only to the interven- 
tion of Mentor.* The combined Greek forces might possibly 
have been able at this moment to wrest Egypt from the do- 
minion of Persia. But what could they have done with 
Egypt ? Mentor had no intention of making such a conquest. 
He looked at the question from the point of view of personal 
interest, and concluded a treaty — so we are positively assured 
— with Bagoas, by which the two commanders agreed to di- 
vide the supreme power. Bagoas promised thenceforward to 
do nothing without previously informing Mentor and obtain- 
ing his permission. This was equivalent to a partition of 
power, since the control of the Persian administration was 
in the hands of Bagoas. The agreement was confirmed by 
mutual oaths, and was faithfully kept. The result was that 
Mentor became omnipotent in Asia Minor. He collected a 
large body of Hellenic mercenaries for the service of Arta- 
xerxes, and in his new position displayed both prudence and 
good faith. It is clear that these events changed the whole 
aspect of affairs in the then known world. Egypt and Asia 
Minor again obeyed the king of Persia, and it was Greek in- 
tervention which had produced this great result. 

The historian of later times who observes the mutual rela- 
tions of Greece and Persia must be strongly impressed by the 
fact that neither the one nor the other formed a really inde- 
pendent power. On the one hand, the internal affairs of 

* The reduction of Egypt is placed by Diodorus in the archonship of 
Apollodorus, b.c. 350-49. Bockh (on Manctho and the dog-star period 
in Schmidt's "Zeitschrift fur Geschichtswissenschaft," ii. p. 780) places 
the event, in accordance with the indications of Manctho, in the year 
340 b.c. 



36G PERSIA AND GREECE. 

Greece were constantly subject to the influence of the Great 
King. On the other hand, the empire of Persia depended 
upon the support which it received from the military resources 
of Greece. But a change was at hand. Between these two 
powers a third arose which, starting from small beginnings, 
speedily threatened to become the strongest of the three. 



Chapter X. 

THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

Not only are arms indispensable to a community for the 
purpose of external action, but without arms it is inconceiv- 
able that a community can hold together. Mankind at large 
is constantly occupied with those natural hostilities in which 
nations and political societies become involved. Every com- 
munity must be in a position to defend itself and all who 
belong to it, otherwise it cannot provide the necessary pro- 
tection for individual freedom and activity. The security of 
the nation as a whole is an indispensable condition for the 
security of the individual. To maintain this security is the 
principal object of human combinations : it is the common 
aim of all constitutions. Care is bestowed upon this object 
in proportion to the severity of the hostilities which may be 
expected, and the Greek republics were organized only for a 
conflict with their equals. But when whole nations come 
into collision, a more complete political organization is neces- 
sary. There must exist a supreme authority capable of unit- 
ing all the forces of the nation against foreign enemies. In 
the collision of powers military monarchies are formed, whose 
success depends, not so much upon their numerical superiority, 
as upon their military organization. War is inevitable, and a 
battle lost or won decides the fate of nations for ages to come. 
The course of the world's history depends upon attack and 
resistance. 

"What, then, is a power? Only such a national community 
as is organized and equipped alike for attack and defence. 
Neither the Greeks nor the Persians in their long struggle 
with each other had been able to arrive at such an organiza- 
tion. Between these two the Makedonians now made their 
appearance, and the Makedonians succeeded in creating a real 



3G8 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

power. The influence which they exerted may be fairly 
styled immeasurable. It was an influence which forms an 
epoch in the history of the world. 

1. Philip, King of Mdkcdon, and Demosthenes. 

Among the peoples of Thracian nationality who occupied 
the confines of Asia, and with whom the Greeks in the estab- 
lishment of their northern colonies came in contact, powers 
of native origin and some importance had now and then been 
set up. Such a power was that of Sitalkes, who was able to 
bring into the field an army of 150,000 men. These powers 
were of short duration. It was different with the dynasty, 
probably of Greek origin, which ruled in the mountainous 
territory of Emathia.* This dynasty held sway over a group 
of half-barbarian clans who had settled in that district, as 
others had settled in Epeirus. Though in habitual contact 
with Thracians and Illyrians, it maintained its vitality, and 
gradually became important. Strabo says that the Makedonian 
people consisted of Thracians and Illyrians, but it is undeni- 
able that Hellenic elements contributed in a greater degree 
than perhaps any other to the formation of the state. It is 
still a question whether the Makedonians should be regarded 
as barbarized Hellenes, or Hellenized barbarians : a coalition 
of both elements may be inferred from their earliest tradi- 
tions. This is of importance in its bearing on the course of 
universal history, into the scope of which the nation in ques- 
tion enters at this point. Originating in a fusion of diverse 
elements, and surrounded by neighbors belonging to a differ- 
ent race, it presents a character unique in history. 

Before the battle of Platrea, the Makedonian prince rode 

* In the two traditions of the foundation of the Makedonian empire, 
given by Herodotus (viii. 137) and by Justin (vii. 1), who repeats Theo- 
poinpus, the following important facts are common to both, viz. the de- 
scent of the kings from Heracles, the mention of Midas, the first seat 
of their power, and the gradual nature of their conquest. In Eusebius 
there is a further legend that the king of the Orcstians being at war with 
his neighbors, the Eordians, sought help of the Karanos of Makedon, and 
gave him half of his kingdom as recompense (Eusebius, i. p. 227, ed. 
Schone). 



ARCHELAUS AND AMYNTAS. 3(59 

np to the Grecian camp to signify his sympathy ; for, as he 
said, he was a Greek, though king of the Makedonians. The 
sum of Makedonian history consists in this mutual action and 
reaction of the Greek and Makedonian elements upon each 
other. 

We have already made mention of King Pcrdiccas, who 
waged war with his neighbors with constant fluctuations of 
fortune. For his own purposes, he summoned to his aid the 
Lakedaemonians under Brasidas, who, in helping him, took 
care to look after their own interests. On this occasion the 
superiority of Greek military skill over that of the northern 
barbarians first made itself felt. After several variations of 
policy, the Ulyrians ventured to attack the Greeks, to whom 
they were vastly superior in point of numbers. Tiie speech 
which Thukydides puts in the mouth of Brasidas on this oc- 
casion is of importance in universal history. He promises 
the Greeks that they will repel the disorderly and noisy attack 
of the Ulyrians, if they will only retreat in the close order of 
battle which he had taught them to maintain. The success 
of this measure was complete, and aroused universal admira- 
tion. It was the first time in these regions, where war was 
still conducted in barbaric fashion, that an army, in close bat- 
tle array, made its appearance and won a victory. 

Greek culture had also its attractions for the Makedonians. 
At the court of Archelaus* poets and musicians found an 
asylum in which they were disturbed by no civic strife. There, 
it was said, they could breathe freely. The court was, how- 
ever, in constant dependence on the Greeks, whose influence 
was decisive in the troubles between the reigning family and 
its subjects. 

Amyntas had himself enjoyed the benefit of a Greek edu- 
cation, and when, upon his death, which took place in 370-69 

* Archelaus was son of Perdiccas, whose death is placed in the archon- 
ship of Peisander, 01. 91, 3 = 414-13 b.c. (Clinton, "Fasti Hell." ii. p. 
223). If we are to believe Syncellus (p. 2G3, A. ed. Par.), whose state- 
ments about the dates of the Makedonian kings arc taken, according to 
Scaliger, from Dexippus, according to Karl Midler ("Fragm. Hist, Grtec." 
iii. p. 672), from Porphyrius, Archelaus reigned fourteen years, and was 
murdered in the archonship of Laches (Diodorus, xiv. 37), b.c. 399. 

24. 



370 TIIE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

B.C., fresh disturbances broke out, his widow Eurydike sought 
help of the Thebans. Pelopidas appeared as an arbiter be- 
tween the parties, and the queen intrusted to him her young 
son Philip, who followed the famous general back to Thebes. 
This prince was Philip, the father of Alexander the Great. 
Nothing could have been more favorable to a soldier's edu- 
cation than a few years' sojourn in Thebes, whose military 
greatness at that time was such as to form an epoch in Grecian 
history. Philip lived in a family which enjoyed the intimacy 
of Epameinondas. After three years he was recalled (365 
B.C.), and at first intrusted with the administration of a small 
district under his brother's rule. After the death of the lat- 
ter, a career of the widest prospects, but full of danger, lay 
before him.* The land was threatened by Illyrians and Pseo- 
nians, while a number of pretenders were struggling for the 
throne, and supporting themselves by the aid of foreign powers. 
In this plight, Philip set about the formation of an efficient 
army on the principles of Epameinondas, whose military sys- 
tem undoubtedly supplied him both with stimulus and ex- 
ample. Following in his footsteps he gradually developed the 
phalanx, f formed a body of peltasts from among the moun- 
taineers of his country, and established a well-drilled body of 
cavalry. With these forces he repulsed the Illyrians, and 
compelled their garrisons to evacuate the Makedonian towns 
which they had occupied. It was his military establishment 
which gave him the upper hand in Makedonia. 

" He found you," so Arrian makes the son of Philip say to 



♦According to Satyrus,in Athcnajus, xiii.p. 557 C, Philip ruled twenty- 
two years; according to Diodorus(xiv. 1), twenty-four years; according to 
Syncellus,twenty-three years. As Philip was murdered in the second half of 
the year 33G, in the archonship of Pythodemus, the beginning of his reign 
should be set about the year 359 B.C. 

tDiodorus (xvi. 2) mentions the Homeric 8ynaspismu8, or locking of 
shields, which Philip imitated (iTrevotjcre Tt)v tFiq (pdXayyog iruKVoT^ra ical 
Ka.TaffKEV))v, fii/j.i]<rdfiEvog tov Iv Tpola tCjv t'lpwtov ffvi'a<nri(Tfi6i>). Eustathius, 
on " Iliad," iv. 150, remarks that Lycurgus introduced something of the 
same kind in his legislation, but that Lysander was the first to introduce 
it among the Spartans, Charidemus among the Arcadians, Epameinondas 
anions the Boeotians. 



PHILIP OF MAKEDON. 371 

the Makedonians, " clothed in skins, feeding your sheep upon 
the mountains, a prey to Illyrians, Triballi, and Thracians ; 
he led you down from your mountain heights, and made you 
a match for your enemies, by enabling you to make use not 
only of the roughness of your country, but of your own in- 
nate valor. You were slaves of the barbarians, and he made 
you their leaders." 

A king of their own blood was readily followed by the 
aristocracy of the land. Philip introduced the custom that 
the younger members of the noblest families should do ser- 
vice at his court, and accompany him in the chase. In this 
manner incongruous elements united to lay the foundation of 
anew military empire. The art and practice of war, so high- 
ly developed by the Greeks, were combined with the aristo- 
cratic and popular elements which rallied to the banner of a 
native king. The political importance of these reforms lies 
in this : that Philip, while imitating the Greeks, raised up an 
independent power at their gates. He not only emancipated 
Makedonia from the dominant Greek influence, but he raised 
his country to a position of vantage whence it could advance 
against Greece. 

It could not be doubtful for a moment what would be the 
aim of Philip's first efforts. It was the natural object of 
Makedonia to get possession of the stretch of coast which 
was occupied by the Greeks. Greek disunion was in this 
matter Philip's best ally. The Greek settlement of Olynthus, 
situated on the coast of Thrace and Makedon, on the very 
confines of either nation, and in alliance with all its neigh- 
bors, had come into notice during the times of the Pelopon- 
nesian war, and had gradually acquired a considerable power. 
The number of civic communities in alliance with or subject 
to Olynthus was reckoned at about thirty. By military means 
this city kept the neighboring Thracian princes in dependence, 
and held control over Lower Makedonia with its mixed popu- 
lation. A better support for Greece in general than such a 
state could not be found, and it was especially fitted to keep 
Makedonia within proper bounds. But upon the fate of 
Olynthus, the Peace of Antalkidas, whether intentionally or 
by chance, had a destructive influence. 



372 THB MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

The enactment that all Greek cities wore to bo autonomous 

was canicd out by Sparta in the north as well as elsewhere. 
This was just what the Makcdonians wanted. But the libera- 
tion of subject cities was not carried out so thoroughly, in the 
case of OlyntliUS, as to prevent that city from quickly rising 
again to a considerable power. The result of this was that 
she came into collision with Athens, just then occupied, with 
the connivance of Persia, in the restoration of her colonial 
empire, While Athens seized places like Methone and Pydna, 
the Olynt'hians succeeded in winning Amphipolis, a town on 
the possession of which the Athenians had always laid the 
greatest, importance. 

This rivalry between the two cities, with both of which 
Philip had to deal if he was to make himself master of his 
own country, was of the greatest assistance to him. It is at 
this point that we first make acquaintance with the double- 
dealing and unscrupulous policy with which Philip consis- 
tently pursued his own advantage. In the shifting course of 
events it. came about that A in phi polis received a JMakedonian 
garrison. Athenian ambition was still directed towards re- 
covering possession of that town, and Philip could make no 
greater concession to Athens than by withdrawing his troops. 
The Athenians, to whom he had agreed to hand over Amphip- 
olis, promised him in its stead Pydna, the old fortress of the 
Tenien'uhe, from whom the JMakedonian kings traced their 
descent. But Philip had no real intention of handing over 
Amphipolis to the Athenians. After a short time, he garri- 
soned the town anew, and at the same time got possession of 
Pydna (355 b.c). He also took Potid»a,and handed it over 
to the Olynthians, with whom he was anxious to keep on good 
terms. Lastly he garrisoned Methone (353 B.C.). 

These movements resulted in open war between Makedonia 
and Athens, a war destined to be derisive for both parties. 
It was a war of arms and diplomacy. .Demosthenes, whose 
Bound judgment enabled him to weigh accurately the relative 
importance o( Pacts, defines the position with admirable clear- 
ness from a military point of view.* He points out that 



* In the 3d Philippic, § -IT aq., p. 128 sq. 



PHILIP OF MAKEDON. 373 

Philip waged war, not only with the heavy-armed phalanx, 
but with light-armed troops, cavalry, archers, and mercena- 
ries. A force of this kind was entirely different from that of 
the Lakedremonians and other Greek states, whose troops re- 
mained only four months in the field, and then returned home. 
Philip, on the contrary, waged war at all seasons. If he 
found no opposition in the open country, he took to besieg- 
ing the fortified towns. The difference between his diplo- 
macy and that of his enemies was not less important. In the 
democratic republic, everything depended upon the issue of 
public discussions: the king, on the other hand, took counsel 
only with himself. Demosthenes ascribed the losses which 
Athens suffered principally to the negligence of the republi- 
can government, and consistently maintained that it was the 
possession of Mcthone and Potidsea, which Philip had again 
occupied, that secured his control over the whole district. 

Philip was, in fact, the incarnation of the military mon- 
archy. He was in a position to carry out his plans with pre- 
cision the moment he had conceived them. His troops were 
an instrument applicable to every kind of service. Athens 
was at this moment hampered by the naval war which result- 
ed in the loss of her allies. Philip, on the other hand, through 
his seizure of the mines of Crenides, famous as far back as 
the time of Herodotus, made himself master of a source of 
wealth which was indispensable for the payment of his mer- 
cenaries. Both from the political and military point of view, 
he was now entirely independent. 

But these events, important as they were, would not have 
alone sufficed to make his success permanent. It was not so 
easy to eradicate the ancient influence of Athens in those re- 
gions over which she had so long held sway. Other events, 
however, took place, which gave King Philip the opportunity 
of taking up a position in the centre of Greece, and dealing a 
fatal blow at Athens from that point of vantage. Among 
these events was one which was thoroughly characteristic of 
the political anarchy then prevailing in Hellas. What should 
have proved a bond of union for the Greeks, led, more than 
anything else, to their disruption. 

The Phokians, who shortly before had been freed by the 



374 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

Thebans from the dominion of Sparta, were resolved not to 
put up with the dominion of Thebes. They were eager to 
secure a separate independence, and resolved to rid themselves 
forever of the inconvenient influence exercised by the Del- 
phic priesthood. They claimed, on the authority of a line of 
Homer, that the presidency of the shrine belonged of right to 
them. An adventurous leader named Philomelus succeeded 
in seizing the temple, not without the secret support of Sparta, 
with a force composed of Phokians and foreign mercenaries 
(357-6 b.c.).* This naturally aroused the hostility of Thebes, 
and under Theban influence a meeting of the Amphictyonic 
Council was held, at which it was resolved to protect the tem- 
ple, and to declare war upon the Phokians. Philomelus availed 
himself of the treasures of the temple, as Sparta made use of 
Egyptian money, and Philip of the mines of Crenides. But 
his action had been too outrageous to allow him to maintain 
his position, and the treasures of the temple were insufficient 
for a real war. Defeated by superior forces, and wounded in 
the conflict, Philomelus, in order to avoid the disgrace of capt- 
ure, threw himself from a precipice (354-3 B.C.). The situa- 
tion was, however, little altered by his death. The Phokians 
found another leader in Onomarchus, the head of one of their 
noblest families. This man took the place of Philomelus, and 
managed, by dint of constant warfare with his neighbors, to 
maintain his position. 

We have now arrived at a point where it will be necessary 
to explain how it was that a Makedonian king who did not 
belong to the Hellenic society came to interfere in these dis- 
turbances. It came about as follows. The Thessalians, who 
of old belonged to the Amphictyonic league, were thoroughly 
at one with Thebes in their effort to put an end to the dis- 
graceful state of things at Delphi. But among themselves 
they were as disunited as the Greeks in general. The family 
of the Aleuadse, who exerted a dominant influence in Thes- 
saly, were opposed by the reigning family of Pherce, at whose 
head was Lycophron. This man, perhaps under the influence 

* Schafer (" Demosthenes und seine Zeit," ii. p. 449) fixes the beginning 
of the wai' in the first months of the rear 355 B.C. 



THE SACRED WAR 375 

of a bribe, made common cause with Onomarchus, and thus 
enabled the latter, now in every respect well armed, to con- 
template the overthrow of the Aleuadge, and therewith the 
reduction of the whole of Thessaly. The centre of interest 
was thus transferred from the general dispute to a quarrel in 
the interior of Thessaly, the most important aspect of which 
was the feud between the tyrant of Pherse and the Thessa- 
lians in alliance with the Amphictyonic league. The latter, 
finding themselves in danger of being crushed by Onomar- 
chus, called in the aid of Philip. 

Philip at first met with considerable success. But when 
Onomarchus came to the aid of Lycophron with superior 
forces, the king had to give way. Twice beaten in the open 
field, and finding his hold upon his mercenaries relaxing, he 
retired to Makedonia. Here he found means of recruiting his 
forces, and again invaded Thessaly, with 20,000 infantry and 
3000 horse. Meanwhile, Onomarchus had made considerable 
progress in Boeotia, and, when summoned by Lycophron to 
his aid, took the field against Philip in Thessaly with a large 
and well-drilled army. The stake that depended on the issue 
of the conflict was no small one. "We may regard as a legend- 
ary addition of later times* the story that Philip hastened 
to battle with the ensign of the Delphian god, which so terri- 
fied the Phokians that, struck with remorse for their crime, 
they allowed themselves to be defeated. What we know for 
certain is that the victory of Philip was especially due to the 
Thessalian cavalry, which had rallied in numbers to his flag. 
But the legend is true in so far as it implies that Philip's 
triumph was also a triumph of the Amphictyons and the Del- 
phic shrine over the Phokians. In the flight Onomarchus 
perished (353-2 b.c). 

The issue of the provincial quarrel was decisive for the 
general war. Philip's victory made him master of Thessaly. 
He occupied the Gulf of Pagasse and declared Phera? a free 
city. The Thessalians, whom he had rescued, gladly espoused 
his cause. It was of even more importance that he could now 

* Justin gives this version (viii. 2, 3). It is probably true, as Justin de- 
clares, that Philip was formally appointed Strategus in Thessaly. 



37C THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

represent himself as the champion of the independence of the 
Delphic oracle. As such, he won over all those who clung to 
their ancestral religion. At first, however, his sound judg- 
ment bade him pause in his career of victory. lie took good 
care not to attack the Athenians, who, with the consent of 
the Phokians, had occupied Thermopylae. Philip made no at- 
tempt to force a way through the pass. It was enough that 
he had attained a position which might, indeed, arouse hostili- 
ty, but which secured him allies. He refrained from press- 
ing the advantage which he had won in central Greece, and 
turned his attention in the next place to the regions of Thrace. 
Olynthus, then in alliance with Athens, was the mark at 
which he aimed. 

How much depended on Olynthus at this moment may be 
understood from the declaration of Demosthenes that as soon 
as Philip should have got possession of that city he might be 
expected in Attica. It is equally apparent from Philip's 
own remark that he must cither subdue Olynthus, or give up 
his hold on Makedonia. This, no doubt, has reference to the 
fact that his brothers, who still refused to recognize his au- 
thority, found a refuge in that city. The Olynthians, as the 
Athenians saw, in resisting Philip, were fighting the battles 
of Athens. 

The rivalry of the two cities had at an earlier date enabled 
Philip to fix himself in Thrace. Their alliance was all the 
more likely to impel him to rid himself of the Olynthians. 
The three-and-thirty cities of Chalkidike, which were now in 
alliance with Olynthus, offered little resistance, and were taken 
by Philip one after another. Not till he threatened Olyn- 
thus itself did the Athenians send any help to the Olynthians 
(340-8 b.c). 

Put the help which they sent was not sufficient to save 
their hard-pressed allies. Of the commanders who led the 
Athenian contingent, one, Chares, was devoid of military 
talent; the other, Charidemus, was notorious for debauchery. 
It was not to be expected that men of this kind should prove 
a match for the king, who was a thorough soldier. To these 
disadvantages must be added civil troubles in Olynthus. The 
result was that in the autumn of the year 348 the town fell 



CAPTURE OF OLYNTHUS. 377 

into the hands of Philip. He availed himself of the right of 
conquest with ruthless cruelty, for lie had no intention of let- 
ting a town like this ever again recover its prosperity. 

This, it appears to me, must be regarded as the second 
great victory of Philip over the Greek community. In the 
fall of Olynthus, Athens herself received a deadly blow. The 
king made use of the prisoners who had come into his hands 
to send proposals of peace to the Athenians. These pro- 
posals were not rejected, for it was to be feared that Philip 
would otherwise proceed to make himself master of the 
Chersonese and the Hellespont. On the maintenance, and 
even on the autonomy, of the colonies in that quarter, de- 
pended not only the naval power of Athens, but her very ex- 
istence, for she drew her supplies in great measure from the 
Black Sea. It was, therefore, a great advantage for Athens 
that Philip offered to make peace on the condition that each 
side should retain what it then held. The possession of Lem- 
nos, Imbros, and Scyros was thereby assured to Athens. 

But with the conclusion of peace, desirable as it was in 
itself, another question of great importance arose. The allies 
of both parties were to be included in the peace. The ques- 
tion was, who were these allies? The Athenians demanded 
that all those who should within three months declare them- 
selves allies of Athens should be recognized as such. Had 
Philip agreed to this, all his enemies in Hellas would have 
taken the Athenian side. Another point closely connected 
with this question pressed for immediate settlement. The 
Athenians wished to have the Phokians recognized as their 
allies. But just at this moment the Phokians and Philip 
were again at open war. The Thebans and Thessalians, find- 
ing themselves unable to get the better of the Phokian army, 
summoned Philip to their aid. It was to the interest of 
Philip to put an end to the little war in that quarter, which 
laid waste the whole district and kept everything in confusion. 
He had on the earlier occasion hesitated to march against the 
Phokians because the latter were supported by Athens and 
Sparta, but this support was theirs no longer. Sparta had 
made a demonstration in favor of Phokis, but, deceived — so 
we are told — by promises which Philip made to the Spartan 



378 the makedonian empire. 

envoy at Pella, she deserted tlie Phokian cause. The Athe- 
nians found their hands tied by the peace.* They would 
have rendered it insecure if they had ventured to oppose the 
king. 

The Phokian general, Phalffictis, a son of Onomarchus, was 
in sorry plight. Not only could he reckon upon no aid from 
abroad, but in Phokis itself his position was unsafe. When 
therefore Philip, who had now concluded an offensive and 
defensive alliance with Thebes, appeared in Thessaly with a 
force which seemed to be invincible, Phalsecus despaired of 
holding his ground. lie resolved to give up his fortified 
camp on condition of being allowed to retreat unhindered 
(346 B.C.). In this way Philip gained a complete victory 
without even drawing the sword. lie was able to pass Ther- 
mopylee without opposition, to invade Phokis, to take posses- 
sion of Delphi, and to establish a new Amphictyonic league. 
From this league the Phokians were excluded, Avhile the 
highest position in it was conferred upon Philip himself. 
He presided at the Pythian games, during which he was 
visited by Athenian ambassadors. To the resolutions which 
were there arrived at, the Athenians, much as they disliked 
them, could make no opposition. 

In order to understand the condition of affairs upon which 
we are now entering, we must study the speech of Demosthe- 
nes on the Peace. The Attic orator appears as the chief 
antagonist of the Makedonian king, whose power, advanced 
with all the resources of diplomacy and war, made swift and 
steady progress. Demosthenes perceived clearly the danger 
to which Athens was exposed, but found no other means of 
meeting it at his command except the influence of his oratory 
on the Demos of Athens. He had now to contend, not only 

* The proposal to make peace with Philip was accepted by the popu- 
lar assembly on the 19th clay of Elaphebolion (Demosth. " De Falsa Lcga- 
tione," § 57, p. 339), in the archonship of Themistocles, 01. 108, 2= 
April 10, 350. After the return of the envoys, -who had been sent to the 
king, the vote followed on the 16th day of Scirophorion = the 10th of 
July (Demosth, " De Fal. L.," § 49, p. 459). It ran as follows : " Idv fit) 
iroiwoi <l>a;/:£7c; ii Set Kai Trapadtdioai Tohj AfupiKruoai to lepbv on fioiiOljffei 6 ^fifioQ 
6 'AOiji'aitiiv Itti rovtj SiaKwXuoyrac ravra yiyvtadcu" (§ 49, p. 355). 



ATHENS AND THEBES. 379 

with those at whose advice the peace had been made, but 
with those who, alarmed at the progress of Philip, now clam- 
ored for war against him. The advice of Demosthenes was 
to keep the peace. " We have now," said he, " given up Am- 
phipolis to Philip. We have allowed the Cardians to sever 
themselves from the other inhabitants of the Chersonese. 
We have permitted the Carians to take possession of the 
islands of Chios, Cos, and Khodes. We have acquiesced in all 
these losses, and made a treaty affecting the very basis of our 
empire, and why? Because we expect greater advantage 
from tranquillity than from a continuation of the struggle." 
In a word, it would have been better not to make a peace in 
which so much was given up, but it would be in the highest 
degree dangerous at this moment to break it, since it was to 
be feared that the Amphictyony might combine to make war 
upon Athens. It was quite possible that Athens might be 
involved in war with Philip, owing to some dispute between 
the two powers in which his allies were not concerned. In 
such a case his allies, at any rate Thebes, would hardly take 
sides with Philip, for they might well be anxious lest their 
own safety should be endangered by a man who was always 
on the watch for his own advantage. To be sure, it was also 
possible that Thebes might take up arms on account of her 
own special quarrel with Athens, but under such circum- 
stances Thebes would find no allies. The most disastrous 
policy for Athens would be, argued Demosthenes, to give all 
her enemies pretexts for making war upon her at once. 
Athens should avoid irritating the Peloponnesians by making 
a closer alliance with Lakedoemon ; the Thebans and Thes- 
salians, by giving refuge to their exiles ; and Philip, by pre- 
venting him from taking his place among the Amphictyons. 
The caution and width of view with which the orator, who 
was not only orator, but statesman, weighed the foreign af- 
fairs of his country, are very remarkable. As things stood 
at the time, he was decidedly in favor of receiving Philip 
into the league of Amphictyonic Hellenes. But while giving 
way on this point he claimed for Athens in other respects an 
independent position. 

From a material point of view the Athenians had every 



380 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

reason to be satisfied with the peace. The fall of Sidon and 
Olynthus were advantageous to Athens, which now became 
the undisputed metropolis of trade. Commerce rapidly de- 
veloped, and there was no want of money. To this period 
we may ascribe the establishment of an arsenal under the 
care of the architect Philon,* and the amendment of certain 
laws which were disadvantageous to commerce. In matters 
of general importance, on which maritime power could be 
brought to bear, Athens presented a bold front to Philip. It 
was desirable in this respect that the relations of Athens with 
Persia should stand on a better footing, and this actually took 
place. The restoration of the Great King's authority in Asia 
Minor called forth a political reaction there. The satrap who 
a short time before had taken refuge with the Makcdonians 
was again admitted, by the intervention of Mcmnon, to the 
favor of Artaxerxes, and returned to Asia. In the life of Aris- 
totle f mention is made of Ilermias, who was his most inti- 
mate friend, and with whom he at that time resided. Iler- 
mias was tyrant of Atarneus, a fortified place, to which other 
towns and strongholds had attached themselves. Mentor, by 
means of treachery, destroyed this budding independence. 
lie invited Ilermias to a personal meeting of which he took 
advantage to make him prisoner, and, by means of his signet 
ring, got possession of Atarneus and the surrounding places. 

It cannot be doubted that this restoration of the Persian 
power in Asia Minor was of advantage to Athens in her 
struggle with Makedonia. That power had to withdraw 
within its former limits. Nor was this all. The Athenians 
had yet another weapon in Greece itself to use against Philip. 
This was the hatred of tyrants, which had been developed 
into a sort of national religion, and which burned as iiercely as 
ever in Grecian bosoms. The so-called tyrannicides who had 
slain Jason of PherSQ were everywhere received with enthusi- 
asm. In Corinth it was the virtuous Timolcon who murdered 



* Curt. Wiiclismuth, " Gcsch. von Atlicn." i. 597. 

t We arc told that Ilermias was still in Atarneus in 344. Aristotle be- 
came in 343 the tutor of Alexander, -which may have had something to 
do with political changes. 



ATHENS AND PERSIA. 381 

his own brother for endeavoring to establish a despotism, a 
deed which excited the deepest wrath in the heart of their 
common mother, but called forth the admiration of their con- 
temporaries. Demosthenes succeeded in arousing this hatred 
of tyrants against Philip. He went in person to Argos and 
Messene to impress upon those states the impossibility of 
maintaining their alliance with the king. He warned them 
that their fate would be like that of most of Philip's allies ; 
but what he chiefly relied on was the incompatibility of a 
monarchy with a free civic constitution. These arguments 
he urged with all his eloquence, and found approval among 
his hearers. It was in vain that Philip complained of the 
orator's insinuations and described them as insults to himself, 
lie made little impression on the Athenians, for Demosthenes 
represented to the Demos that the king cared not for justice, 
but for dominion. 

Thus it was that Athens, relying upon her ancient fame, 
her vigorous navy, her good understanding with the Persians, 
lastly, on the deeply rooted national hatred of tyrants, stood 
forth as the one power which could cope with Philip. In- 
deed, she appeared to him still so dangerous that he began to 
contemplate a revision of the terms of peace. But the con- 
sequences might have gone further than he wished had he 
agreed to the Athenian demand that, not the possessions, but 
the rights, of each state should be taken as the basis of peace. 
The existing situation would thereby have been rendered in- 
secure, and, above all, Philip's own position would have been 
shaken. At this moment the Thracian Chersonese, which 
Persia had recognized as part of the Athenian empire, and 
whose maintenance in that condition had been the chief ob- 
ject of the peace, was threatened by Philip. Cardia, an inde- 
pendent town, had been recognized in the peace as one of 
Philip's allies. It happened that some Athenian troops, dis- 
satisfied with their pay, committed ravages in the district of 
Cardia and the neighboring Makedonian territory. Philip 
chose to regard this as an act of hostility, and at Athens pub- 
lic opinion was in favor of recalling the general who was to 
blame for the disturbance. This measure was opposed by 
Demosthenes. He had considered it dangerous to break with 



382 THE MAKEDONIx\N EMPIRE. 

Philip on the question of the Amphictyony. But he was 
strongly of opinion that the special interests of Athens as 
against the king of Makedonia, especially in the district of the 
Chersonese, should be strenuously protected. He expressed 
his convictions on this score in a vigorous speech which has, 
with great justice, been considered the best of all his orations, 
namely, the Third Philippic. In this speech he reckons up 
the grudges which Athens had against Philip, and shows 
that in reality he was then at open war with Athens. Who 
would venture to doubt, says he, that an enemy who sets up 
his siege-train round a city is on the point of attacking it? 
Philip's fine words were utterly unworthy of credence : with 
fine words he had deceived Olynthus, he had deceived the 
Phokians, and, last of all, Phone, and the fate that had be- 
fallen those states would soon befall Athens. Philip, in fact, 
was at war with Athens, while Athens was not at war with 
Philip. Such a state of things must, at all costs, be brought 
to an end. 

Against the positive proposals of Demosthenes many ob- 
jections might be made. The value of his speeches lies in 
his general observations, which rest upon a wide survey of 
affairs, and are enforced, one may fairly say, with irresistible 
logic. For it is not in high-sounding words, but in incontro- 
vertible reasoning, which, however close, is yet intelligible to 
the masses, that the excellence of these orations consists. 

Philip and Athens were now engaged for the second time 
in open conflict. Philip's first step was an attack upon the 
fortified town of Perinthus. This town, built in terraces 
along the coast, contained an industrious and courageous 
population. Philip had already succeeded in carrying the 
outer walls, and the fall of the inner town was expected, 
when some Athenian mercenaries made their appearance. It 
was Persian gold which paid these troops, for the Persians 
were as anxious as the Athenians not to let the Makedonian 
monarchy gain control over the straits, whose possession was 
of such world-wide importance. In those regions, where dif- 
ferent nationalities have, in all periods of the world's history, 
come into collision, since no state will allow another to possess 
them, a very unexpected, but at the same time natural, union 



BYZANTIUM. 383 

of Greek and Persian interests took place. The result was 
that Philip had to raise the siege of Perinthus (340-39 B.C.). 

The scene of action now shifted to Byzantium. Here the 
Athenians were able to bring their whole power to bear 
against the king. Chares drove the Makedonian fleet out of 
the Golden Horn. Phokion, who owed his refuge in Byzan- 
tium to the fame of his virtue, defended the fortifications on 
the land side. Here, too, Philip had to retreat. But his 
combinations had never been on a wider or more magnificent 
scale. By an expedition against the Scythians he hoped to 
get possession of the mouths of the Danube. He would then 
have become master of the Black Sea, after which the Greek 
colonies in that quarter would have been unable long to 
maintain their independence. But in these lands there still 
existed free peoples, whose movements were not to be fore- 
seen or calculated, and the expedition against the Scythians 
failed to attain its aim. It was not altogether unsuccessful, 
for the king returned richly laden with booty, but on his way 
back he was attacked by the Triballi, who inflicted on him 
such serious loss that he had to relinquish the idea of making 
further conquests in the Thracian Chersonese. The Atheni- 
ans, who were hardly aware that they had allies in the Tri- 
balli, maintained, in conjunction with the Persians, their 
maritime supremacy. Once more the Athenian navy proved 
itself a match for the Makedonian king, and the general 
position of affairs would have allowed this balance of power 
to exist for a time if the old feud about the shrine of Delphi 
had not been revived. 

The cause of this was, politically speaking, insignificant. 
It was a quarrel on a point of honor, such as when Pericles 
and Sparta were rivals for the Promanteia.* This time the 
rivalry was between Thebes and Athens. The Athenians 
had restored a votive offering in Delphi, the inscription on 
which commemorated the victories they had won alike over 
the Persians and the Thebans. The Thebans felt this insult 
the more keenly because their relations had, since that time, 
undergone a complete transformation. At the next meeting 



* That is, the right of precedence in consulting the oracle. 



384 'JT IIE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

of the Amphictyonic Council, at which envoys from Athens 
again took part, the Ilieromnemon of Amphissa, the chief 
town of the Ozolian Locrians, brought the matter forward. It 
will be remembered that the Locrians were especial enemies 
of the Phokians, and the most zealous supporters of the Del- 
phian god. In the course of his speech the Ilieromnemon 
gave utterance to sentiments offensive to the Athenians, 
whom lie could not forgive for their alliance with the Phoki- 
ans. He went so far as to say that their presence could not 
be tolerated in the holy place. One of the envoys of Athens 
was the orator ./Esehines, who was not himself Ilieromnemon, 
but acted as his deputy. Far from seeking to excuse the 
Athenians, he turned the tables on the people of Amphissa 
by charging them with seizing the property of the Delphian 
god, namely, the harbor of Kirrha, which was visible from 
the place of meeting. After the victories of Philip, public 
opinion had turned strongly in favor of protecting the pos- 
sessions of the temple. ^Eschines succeeded in persuading 
the Amphictyons to undertake the expulsion of the Locrians 
from their new possession. They were naturally resisted, 
and the resistance they met with was stigmatized as sacrilege. 
It was resolved to hold a special sitting of the Amphictyonic 
Council, in order to deal with the question. 

Demosthenes was alarmed when he heard of this challenge. 
To wage war on behalf of the Amphictyons and the shrine of 
Delphi was totally at variance with the established policy of 
Athens, which had hitherto countenanced encroachments on 
the shrine. Was Athens now to take part in a war in favor 
of the Amphictyony- — that is, in favor of King Philip, who 
was at the head of the league? Such was the counsel of 
./Eschincs, in whose eyes the piety and justice of the war 
overbalanced other considerations. He hoped to make use 
of this opportunity in order, with the consent of Philip, to 
wrest Oropus, long a subject of dispute, from the Thebans. 
Demosthenes set himself against this plan with all the force 
of his political convictions. Here we may remark the rad- 
ical distinction between the two orators. The one was at- 
tracted by a momentary advantage, the other kept the gen- 
eral state of affairs consistently in view. At the same time 



PHILIP APPOINTED STRATEGUS. 385 

we are struck by the incapacity of a democratic assembly for 
the conduct of affairs when great political interests are con- 
cerned. Such an assembly is a slave to the impulse of the mo- 
ment, arid to the impressions of the tribune. Further than 
this, the personal rivalry of the two orators made itself felt 
in decisions of the greatest moment. At first .zEschines suc- 
ceeded in passing a resolution to declare war against Am- 
phissa. Thereupon Demosthenes passed another resolution 
directly at variance with the first, against taking sides with 
the Amphictyons, or even sending envoys to the contem- 
plated meeting. Here was a change of front indeed! In 
the first vote were involved peace and friendship with Phil- 
ip; the second vote meant nothing short of open hostilities 
against him. The people of Amphissa, at first rejected, were 
immediately afterwards taken into favor. Thus encouraged, 
they showed a bolder front to the Amphictyons. 

Here we are compelled to ask whether the great master of 
eloquence did not lay himself open to the charge of incon- 
sistency. How was it that he counselled resistance to the 
Amphictyons and therefore at the same time to King Philip, 
a proceeding which he had always denounced as in the high- 
est degree dangerous ? He defended this policy on the ground 
that Athens was already at open war with Philip, and that 
she could not possibly be allied, in a question of internal pol- 
itics, with a prince against whom she was fighting elsewhere. 
For Philip, however, no step could have been more advan- 
tageous. Too weak at sea to resist Athens on that element, 
he was now provided with occasion and pretext for bringing 
his overpowering land force into the field against her. At 
the invitation of the Thessalians, he led his army into Thes- 
saly. The Amphictyons appointed him Strategus, with inde- 
pendent and irresponsible authority — for that is the meaning 
of the word " autocrator," which was added to the title of 
Strategus. 

Thus provided with legal authority, he appeared, in the 
winter of 339-S, in Hellas. Neither the Locrians, though aid- 
ed by an Athenian contingent, nor the people of Amphis- 
sa, were able to resist him. It was probably owing to a false 
report, spread by himself, that he was allowed a free passage 

25 



386 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

through Thermopylae, lie then occupied Elateia, which se- 
cured his retreat to Makedonia. These advances produced 
yet another revolution in Panhellenie affairs. Thebes, after 
having promoted the Amphictyonic war against Phokis, and 
after assisting Philip in his other movements, now deserted 
his side. No Theban envoys appeared at an extraordinary 
assembly of the Amphictyons, which met at Pylse. We may 
infer that the Thcbans were anxious lest Philip, after over- 
powering Athens, should turn his arms against themselves ; 
and undoubtedly their anxiety was well founded. Thebes 
had, on a previous occasion, actively contributed to the over- 
throw of the Lakcdaunonian power and the rule of the Thirty 
Tyrants in Attica. This had revived the power of Athens, 
which in return aided Thebes in the recovery of its indepen- 
dence. It was not likely that the Thebans would stand by 
and sec Athens crushed by Philip. The offence which they 
had taken at the votive shield was soon forgotten, but, unfor- 
tunately, there was another very intelligible ground of jeal- 
ousy between the two cities. This was the seaport of Oro- 
pus, then in the hands of the Thebans, a port much coveted 
by Athens on account of its convenience for the trade with 
Euboea. ./Eschines had hoped that Athens, by the aid of 
Philip, would be able to take permanent possession of this 
town. Here he was opposed by Demosthenes. If King 
Philip was ever again to be successfully resisted, it could only 
be done by the restoration of a good understanding between 
Athens and Thebes. Thus, and thus only, could a power be 
formed capable of taking up the cudgels with Philip. The 
idea of this alliance was in the mind of Demosthenes day and 
night. 

That the alliance came about is to be regarded as the great- 
est service which Demosthenes rendered at this crisis. He 
succeeded in persuading the Athenians — and it can have been 
no easy matter to persuade them — to give up the claim upon 
Oropus, which they had hitherto strenuously maintained. 
The victory which Demosthenes won in Athens was a victory 
of national interests over a separatist policy. Immediately 
afterwards he went in person to Thebes. By recognizing the 
headship of Thebes in Bceotia, in spite of all Philip's com- 



ALLIANCE OF ATHENS AND THEBES. 387 

mands and threats, he succeeded in consummating the alli- 
ance of the two cities, on the success of which the very exist- 
ence of the Greek community depended.* All Greece was 
thereupon traversed by embassies from either party. Philip 
persuaded the Messenians, the Arcadians, and the people of 
Elis to take no part in the war. From the Spartans he had 
nothing to fear, for at this moment they were occupied with 
an expedition to Italy, in order to support Tarentum against 
the Lucanians. But there were a few states who clang fast 
to the idea of a Panhellenic bond. Athens and Thebes found 
allies in the Eubceans and the Achceans, in the inhabitants 
of Corinth and Megara, as w r ell as in the distant Leucadians 
and Korkyrreans. 

In Athens, as well as in Bceotia, there were many who 
would have preferred peace, but the orator had united the 
two capitals with too strong a chain. When the Athenians 
appeared before Thebes they were received, contrary to the 
habit of previous centuries, with a hearty welcome. The 
combined armies took the field together. The first skirmishes 
that took place turned out well for the allied cities, and a 
golden crown was voted in Athens to Demosthenes. But 
popular enthusiasm was premature in thinking that success 
was attained. In the very first movements of the war the 
superior generalship of Philip was displayed. He drove the 
Thebans from their position of vantage by attacking Bceotia 
in their rear. The Thebans, impelled by their territorial 
sympathies, despatched a portion of their forces in that direc- 
tion, and Philip was thus enabled to occupy the plain of Choc- 
roneia, a position very favorable for deploying his cavalry. 

It was on this field that the two hosts met for the decisive 
conflict. Philip commanded an army fully equipped and 
accustomed to combined action, and he commanded it with 
unequalled skill. He had turned to his own use the expe- 
riences of Theban and Athenian commanders durins; several 



* Theopompus (" Demosthenes," chap. 18) remarks on the speech of 
Demosthenes at Thebes, " t) tov pfiropog Siva/uc iKpnr'tZovoa tov Qv^tov avrwv 
Kai Cucaiovaa ti)v cpiXoTiftiav, t7r£<TKorjj<7£ toIc aWoic I'nraaiv, HxjTt Kai <p6ftov Kai 
Xoyia/xov Kai X^P lv iicfiaXtlv avrovg, ivOovcriwvTac vtto tov Xoyov vpbr to kciXov." 



388 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

decades. Neither Thebes nor Athens had any commander 
of note to set against him. Phokion, the only man in Ath- 
ens who understood the art of war, kept himself purposely 
out of the way. The organization of the allied forces was 
that which had become traditional. The different contin- 
gents were arranged according to the localities which sup- 
plied them, just as had been the case in the Persian wars. 
The army was what it always had been, a citizen militia from 
the different towns and states. Their individual discipline 
was excellent, but collectively they had no organization. 
The Athenians had granted a certain pre-eminence to the 
Theban Thcagenes, but they had not conferred upon him the 
powers of a general. On this decisive day the Greek com- 
munity had no commander-in-chief. 

The Thebans, whose forces were most numerous, had to 
withstand the severest attack. They were, at this moment, 
the most hated and most dangerous enemies of Philip: most 
hated because they had deserted his league; most dangerous 
because in their contingent were concentrated the remains of 
the old Theban army, founded by Epameinondas, and there- 
fore the most famous military force of Greece. Against 
them Philip sent the bulk of his forces, under the command 
of his son Alexander. lie himself, with a body of his choicest 
and most experienced troops, faced the Athenians. While 
restricting himself to holding the Athenians in check, he 
allowed the main battle to take place between the bulk of his 
forces and the Thebans. The latter defended themselves 
with the greatest bravery. Their leader, Thcagenes, was not 
unworthy of his predecessors. The nucleus of the Theban 
resistance was the Sacred Band, whose members were bound 
by mutual oaths never to desert each other. This force, with- 
out doubt the best that was in the field, was now overpow- 
ered by the superiority of Makedonian generalship. The vic- 
tory has been ascribed to the youthful Alexander, but it must 
really have been due to the experienced captains by whom he 
was assisted in the command. 

The Theban line was eventually broken — Alexander is 
said to have ridden it down with his cavalry — and Philip 
now advanced against the Athenians with the force which 



BATTLE OF CH^EROiNEIA. 389 

he had hitherto held in reserve. At the first onset they are 
said to have fancied that they were about to chase the king 
from the field. But Philip remarked: "The Athenians know 
not how to win a victory " — a remark which must have meant 
that otherwise they would not have pursued him so far on his 
pretended retreat. Now that the battle had gone against the 
Thebans, and the troops which had been victorious in that 
quarter pressed forward against the allies who were drawn 
up with the Athenians and were under Athenian command, 
Philip turned his forces against the Athenians themselves. 
The latter, seeing that all was over, made no further resist- 
ance, and suffered a complete defeat.* Of native Athenians 
more than one thousand were slain, two thousand were taken 
prisoners, and the rest fled in complete panic. Among the 
latter was Demosthenes. His place was not on the field of 
battle, but in the tribune. Philip is said to have ironically 
repeated the beginning of a vote against himself, which hap- 
pened to run in the iambic metre, and in which "Demosthenes 
the son of Demosthenes of the Pceonian deme " is mentioned 
as the proposer. The orator was defeated by the Strategus, 
and democratic enthusiasm by military experience. The 
speaker who roused that enthusiasm gave way to the king 
who knew the use of military science. The power of the 
tribune was thrust into the background by a political force 
which recognized no authority but that of arms. 

The Athenians were afraid that Philip would now press 
forward against their city. But this could hardly have been 
his intention, especially after the failure of the sieges which 
he had lately attempted. It was on pitched battles that his 
superiority depended. Moreover, he was satisfied with the 
commanding position which his victory had obtained for him. 
One of its first results, and the most important of all, was that 

* Of the battle we have a fairly trustworthy account in Diodorus, xvi. 
86. It took place in the archonship of Chaerondas (Diodorus, xvi. 84), 
01. 110, 3, on the seventh day of Metageitnion (Plutarch, "Caraillus," 
chap, xix.), which, according to the different assumptions on which the 
reckoning is based, corresponds either to August 1 or September 2 of the 
Julian calendar, B.C. 338. Comp. Schafer, " Demosth. und seine Zeit," ii. 
p. 528, n. 5. 



390 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

the party favorable to him in Athens now again took the lead. 
He was wise enough to conciliate resentment by proofs of 
favor, and the terms of peace which he offered were such as 
Athens could have felt no inducement to reject. As to the 
details we are ill informed. The king gave Oropus back to 
Athens, but there can be no doubt that she had to cede the 
Thracian Chersonese with some of her subject islands, as well 
as the command of the sea. 

In Greece itself no one ventured to make further resistance 
to the king. In Euboea, in the first place, his friends took 
the lead in every city. Chalkis was chastised for its alliance 
with Athens. Thebes was secured by a Makedonian garrison 
in the Cadmeia. The autonomy of the Boeotian cities was 
restored, not, however, in the Athenian interest, but in that 
of the king. His first care was thenceforward not only to 
maintain this condition of things, but to anticipate every new 
movement which might disturb it. 

But the course of affairs was not such as to allow Philip to 
set himself up as absolute master of Greece. It rather tended 
to the establishment, in the midst of the independent elements 
of the Greek world, of a power capable of undertaking the 
general direction, and setting a limit to internal disturbances. 
With this end in view, Philip undertook to found a sort of 
league for the preservation of peace. In such a league he 
naturally played the chief part. After a short lapse of time 
he summoned a meeting of deputies from the Greek towns 
and states to meet him in Corinth. The assembly was numer- 
ously attended, but all we know for certain about its proceed- 
ings is that the existing state of affairs was sanctioned. A 
special resolution was passed to the effect that no city should 
attempt to restore the exiles of another. Any state which at- 
tacked another was to be put down, at the invitation of Philip, 
by all the rest. This was tantamount to the appointment of 
Philip as commander, with absolute powers, of the League of 
the Public Peace. 

The king had given the Athenians their choice as to whether 
they would attend this assembly or not. In consequence of 
the turn which affairs had taken — for, as one of their orators 
put it, the victory of Chceroneia had blinded every one — the 



RESULTS OF THE BATTLE OF CILERONEIA. 391 

proposal to attend the meeting was accepted. The Athenians 
were therefore represented at Corinth : not so the Spartans, 
who, in spite of Philip's influence in the Peloponnesus, could 
not bear to submit to any kind of domination. The contin- 
gents to be supplied by all other states were fixed, and these 
contingents were to be supplied in case of any attack upon the 
king, and even in case of any aggressive war which he might 
resolve to undertake. 

The forces of Hellas were thus put at the king's service, 
although it was impossible to say positively to what use he 
intended to put them. It was generally assumed that he in- 
tended to turn his arms against Persia. That, indeed, was the 
most natural course to take. Athens had been in alliance 
with Persia, and a number of Athenians, who could not bear 
to submit to Philip, had taken refuge in Asia Minor, where 
Mentor, at the head of his Greek mercenaries, still maintained 
the authority of the Great King. Without a moment's delay 
the king of Makedonia sent a division of his army, under the 
command of Attalus and Parmenio, to Asia Minor, in order 
to arouse the Greeks in that quarter to strike a blow for free- 
dom in the old Hellenic sense of the word. Hostilities with 
Mentor at once began. Through all this we can clearly trace 
the chain of cause and effect. The victories over Greece, the 
acquisition of naval supremacy, the conquest of the Thracian 
Chersonese, the expedition against the northern barbarians, 
the establishment of relations with the semi-Hellenic races 
of Epeirus, the military movements now undertaken in Asia 
Minor — all these follow each other in their natural order, and 
bring to light a single military and political system, foretelling 
a new future for the Oriental world. 

Of the elements which constituted this system, far the most 
important was the connection between the Makedonian mon- 
archy and the hegemony of Greece. Philip had no intention 
whatever of reducing the Greeks to the position of subjects. 
On the contrary, he needed their voluntary assistance, their 
adventurous spirit, and their inventive power. "While with- 
holding from the Greeks the supreme direction of affairs in 
the most important political crises, he absorbed the Greek sys- 
tem into the collective unity of his power. On the one side, 



;;;>•_> THE MAKEDONIAH EMPIRE. 

we have an army fitted for the greatest undertakings, an ;irmy 
without a rival in its day, entirely dependent on the will of 
the Bffakedonian king. On the other side, we have a civilisa- 
tion thoroughly national in character, but capable of exercis- 
ing a universal influence. The combination of these two ele- 
ments is the distinctive feature of Philip's political work: it 
was, so to speak, his mission. Victories gained by a people 
like the Macedonians, however decisive, could not by them- 
selves have had a very deep influence upon universal history. 
Their world-wide importance is due to the fact that the Make- 
doniana united themselves with the Greeks, whose national 
culture, developed by the free action of internal forces, must 
ever be one of the principal elements in that civilization which 
forms the goal of humanity. It was through this alliance, 
intimate enough, if on one side involuntary, that the Make- 
donian monarchy produced so incalculable an effect upon the 
history of later ages. The Greeks, bad they remained alone, 
would never have succeeded in winning for the intellectual 
life which they had created a sure footing in the world at 
large. Indeed, the connection with Persia, so lately renewed, 
might well have had the very opposite effect Put what 
could not have otherwise been secured was attained by their 
alliance with Makedonia. It was inevitable that Demosthenes 
should be the enemy of Philip. The philosopher, to whose 
care Philip committed his son Alexander, was. on the other 
hand, Alexander's best ally. That alliance embraced the po- 
litical and the intellectual world, which thenceforward pro- 
ceeded side by side in separate, but yet as it were concentric, 
orbits. 

We cannot agree with the oft-repeated assertion that Philip 
at this moment stood at the climax of his fortune, and that. 
with Europe at his feet, he flattered himself with the prospect 
of speedily overthrowing Asia. A statesman and commander 
oi his experience was not likely to shut his eyes to the diffi- 
culties which stood in his way on either side. But he was 
determined to carry through the enterprise to which the ten- 
dency of events had led him. and which he was now preparing 
to execute. Deeds of world-wide significance and startling 
grandeur were universally expected of him, when suddenly 



ACCESSION OF ALEXANDER 303 

the news spread that, at a festival arranged by him at /Egffl, 
he had fallen by the hand of an assassin. 

Polygamous relations were the cause of this oatastrophe. 
Philip had divorced his wife Olympian, who was descended 
from the Epeirot family of the JSakid®, and had wedded the 
niece of Attains, who belonged to one of the noblest families 
in Makedonia, This event caused a bitter fend between the 
friends of the two wives, and between Alexander, the son of 
Olympias, and the uncle of the second wife. Philip hoped 
to reconcile the parties by a marriage between his daughter 
Cleopatra and the brother of Olympias. It was at the festival 
given on this occasion that he was murdered, while walking 
between his son Alexander and his son-in-law of the same 
name (autumn of 33G B.O.).* One of his chief and most 
trusted servants, Pausanias, had done the deed. We need pay 
no attention to the motives, alike disgusting and insufficient, 
which have been attributed to him. The explanation points 
to legendary additions, which frequently mingle the vulgar 
and the tragic. 

In Athens the news was received with manifestations of 
delight. Demosthenes appeared in the popular assembly clad 
in a festive robe. lie rejoiced to sec his country rid of the 
tyrant who had loaded her with chains. In the mind of the 
orator, everything was to give way to the autonomy of the 
Greek republics, which was clearly less in danger from the 
Persians than from the Makodonians. But, in leaning to the 
former, he espoused the weaker side. The Makedonian mon- 
archy passed from the strong hand which had founded it 
to one stronger still. The JSakid Alexander ascended the 
Makedonian throne. 

2. Alexander the Gnat. 

It was a significant remark with which Alexander took pos- 
session of the government. He said that the king his lord 

* In a close investigation of this affair, a letter of Alexander (Arrian, 
i. 25, and ii. 14), in which he attributes his father's death to the Persians, 

would appear worthy of consideration, were not the authenticity of the 
letter doubtful. Aristotle ("Polit." v. 8 [10]) gives a very short sketch 
of the ordinary story. 



394 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

had perished, hut lie would be as zealous in the conduct of 
affairs as ever his father had been. Therewith lie entered 
upon the career which his father had marked out for him. 
He had to hold the semi-barbaric tribes in check, to maintain 
his authority in Greece, and to carry on war with Persia. A 
short visit to Greece, not without some parade of military 
force, sufficed to induce the Diet of the Greek States, which 
he summoned to meet in Corinth, to hand over to him the 
supreme command which they had formerly conferred upon 
his father. On this occasion the command was conferred 
with the distinct object of carrying on war against Persia. 
It was the preparations for this war which gave rise to the 
first danger that assailed the young king. 

At talus, who denied the Makedonian origin of the king 
and regarded him in the light of an enemy, succeeded in se- 
ducing the troops over whom Philip had placed him in com- 
mand. He established an understanding with the Greeks, 
and, instead of waging war with Persia, seemed inclined to 
make common cause with them against Alexander. But At- 
talus was murdered : the obedience of the Makedonian troops 
was secured by Parmenio, and the war with Persia went on. 
At first the Makedonians met with no great success. They 
were compelled to raise a siege which they had undertaken, 
and in Troas were beaten out of the field — events which 
caused intense excitement through the length and breadth of 
the Grecian world. 

Philip and Alexander have been strikingly compared with 
the kings of Prussia, Frederick William the First and Fred- 
erick the Second. It is true that each father bequeathed to 
his son a powerful army ready in every respect to take the 
field. Almost the first efforts of the two sons — we are dis- 
tinctly told this of Alexander as well as of Frederick — were 
directed to securing the obedience of the troops. But the 
difference is, that Frederick the Second commenced a policy 
which was entirely his own, and began a war which his father 
would never have undertaken. Alexander, on the contrary, 
took up and continued the political and military schemes 
which his father had begun. 

We first make acquaintance with him and his army during 



CAMPAIGN IN THRACE. 395 

his campaign against the tribes on the northern frontier of 
Makedonia. This campaign he carried out with energy equal 
to that of Philip, and with more success (spring of 335 b.c). 
The distinctive feature of the war was that the Makedonian 
phalanx, the organization and equipment of which were 
adapted from Grecian models, everywhere won and main- 
tained the upper hand. At the passage of the Hsemus, the 
most difficult points were fortified by the Thracians with a 
bulwark of wagons. These war-carriages were rolled down 
from the steepest heights in the hope of throwing the mili- 
tary array of the Makedonians into confusion. Arrian, who 
begins his history of Alexander's campaigns with this feat of 
arms, describes the skilful inventions by which this plan was 
met and frustrated.* When the real battle began, the Thra- 
cians, who, according to the traditions of barbaric warfare, had 
taken the field without weapons of defence, fled from their 
fortified positions. In their flight they were joined by the 
Triballi, who were in alliance with the Thracians, and had re- 
sisted all the efforts of King Philip to pacify them. Their 
king Syrmus retreated to Peuke, an island in the Danube ; 
but with the mass of the nation the Makedonians again came 
into collision. Protected by a thick forest, the Triballi awaited 
their attack. Alexander managed to entice them from their 
shelter by means of an attack on the part of the archers and 
spearmen. The event was still doubtful, when the phalanx, 
drawn up in greater depth than usual, marched against them, 
while at the same time the Makedonian cavalry made an * 
onslaught. Thus threatened, the Triballi retreated from the 
field. 

In this episode we come upon regions, peoples, and condi- 
tions, among which the history of the world has more than 
once, in later times, been decided. Even at this epoch By- 
zantium was rising into importance. That city had, owing to 
its hostility with Persia, deserted the side of the Greeks for 
that of the Makedonians. It was from Byzantium that Alex- 
ander summoned triremes to help him against the island in 
the Danube on which the king of the Triballi had taken ref- 

* Arrian's account h confirmed by Strabo, vii. 8, p. 301. 



30G THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

ugc, and to facilitate his passage to the left bank of the river. 
The island was protected from attack by steep banks, a rapid 
stream, and the sturdy resistance of its inhabitants, but the 
Byzantine squadron enabled the king to transport his troops 
across the river. Just as the phalanx had proved too much 
for the unskilled efforts of the mountaineers of Thrace, so on 
this occasion the Greek triremes showed themselves incom- 
parably superior to the log canoes with which the Getee, the 
principal tribe of the district, used to navigate the stream. 
Boats of this kind were, however, used, together with the tri- 
remes, to carry a larger number of troops over the river. The 
Geto?, who awaited the king in hostile array, were astonished 
at the speed and apparent slightness of preparation with 
which he appeared in their neighborhood. The phalanx was 
drawn up in a long and threatening line, and when the cav- 
alry, under command of the king himself, formed for attack, 
they at once gave way. They were still in a half-nomadic 
condition, and retreated, with their wives and children, and 
all their possessions, into the wilderness of the steppe, whither 
it was impossible to follow them. 

More than this Alexander did not intend to do. He could 
now return in triumph and security across the stream. The 
expedition itself bears a close resemblance to that of Darius 
Hystaspis, but regarded from a wider point of view a great 
contrast is apparent. On the earlier occasion the Persian 
forces returned from the Danube to attack Makedonia and 
Greece. It was now the turn of Makedonia and Greece to 
appear independent and triumphant in the districts where 
Persia was once victorious. 

The great successes of Alexander induced all the neighbor- 
ing nationalities to accept the proposals of friendship which 
he made to them. *\Ve hear mention on this occasion of the 
Kelts, who at that time dwelt on the coasts of the Adriatic 
Sea. They appear to have underrated the power of the king, 
but Alexander, though expressing his surprise at their con- 
duct, considered it advisable to make alliance with them. 
These events should not be left unnoticed. They served to 
put an end to the ferment in the Balkan peninsula, and al- 
lowed the king to turn his attention in other directions. On 



THE TAULANTII AST) AGRIANI. 307 

these frontiers the military forces of the civilized world main- 
tained a fluctuating conflict with the undisciplined hordes of 
the aboriginal or immigrant tribes down to the times in which 
Arrian wrote. The names by which he designates the enemies 
of Alexander were probably transferred from the tribes of his 
own day. 

With these victories, however, Alexander's task in these 
regions was not yet done. The nation of the Tanlantii made 
hostile movements against him. The manners and customs 
of the Tanlantii may be inferred from the story that, at the 
approach of the Macedonians, they sacrificed three boys and 
throe girls, together with three black rams. Alexander had 
made an alliance with the neighboring tribe of the Agriani, 
who were hostile to the Taulantii, and whose archers were of 
great service to him. The Gnrco-Makedonian military sys- 
tem was here, as usual, victorious. In spite of the mountain- 
ous ground, the phalanx showed a capacity for manoeuvring 
in the closest order, and in the most diverse directions, such 
as it never before displayed. The rapid advance, which no 
local difficulties could hinder, the charge itself, the clash of 
the spears striking against the shields, so terrified the enemy 
that they fled from the strongholds which they had occupied, 
but did not venture to defend. Thus it was that the military 
science of the Greeks, before whose steady array the Illyrians 
had formerly recoiled, now still further developed by Philip 
and Alexander, became supreme in the territory of the bar- 
baric and semi-barbaric nations which surrounded Makedonia. 
Alexander completed the task which his father had left un- 
finished, and could now, after his example, turn his arms in 
other directions. 

In Greece false reports concerning the progress of events 
in the north had raised to fever heat the general ferment 
which naturally existed. Alexander relied upon the resolutions 
of the League of the Public Peace, which had recognized his 
father and afterwards himself as its head. But he was now 
opposed by all those who were unable to forget their former 
condition, and who preferred the alliance with Persia which 
had left them independent, to the league with Makedonia 
which robbed them of their autonomy. Let us not too hastily 



39 S THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

condemn Demosthenes for yielding to these ideas. Thebes 
took the lead of the malcontents, and set about ridding her- 
self of the garrison which Philip had placed in the Cadmeia. 
She thus became the centre of the whole Hellenic opposition. 
The enemies of Makedon, who had been exiled from every 
city, assembled in Thebes, and did their best to rouse the 
people by recalling to their minds the triumphs of Epamei- 
nondas and his glorious activity. The same party was stirring 
in Lakedoemon, in Arcadia, in ^Etolia, and, above all, at Athens. 
From Athens the Thebans were supplied, through the media- 
tion of Demosthenes, and doubtless by means of Persian gold, 
with arms, of which they were likely to stand in need. When 
we consider that Persia w T as at this time omnipotent in Asia 
Minor, and that Alexander had his hands full in the north, we 
can see that the prospects of the Theban rising were by no 
means hopeless. 

But Alexander had no sooner settled with his enemies in 
the north than he turned to Hellas. So rapid was his move- 
ment that he found the pass of Thermopylre still open, and, 
long before he was expected, appeared before the walls of 
Thebes. His primary object was to relieve the Cadmeia, the 
most important position in Boeotia. The Thebans were act- 
ively engaged in the siege of the fortress, and had already 
surrounded it with a kind of circumvallation. The same fate 
appeared to threaten the Makedonian garrison which had 
once befallen the Lakedremonian. The Thebans thought first 
to seize the fortress, and then to defeat the king. Alexander 
at once advanced against them from a strong position which 
he had occupied in the neighborhood. In the proclamations 
of the heralds, which answer to the manifestoes of our day, 
we clearly see the point at issue, and the grounds on which 
either side relied for justification. Alexander offered pardon 
to all who would return to the League of the Public Peace. 
The Thebans claimed the assistance of all those who were 
minded, in alliance with the Great King, to maintain the au- 
tonomy of the Hellenes. 

It is clear that Alexander, in whose army there served a 
large body of Greek allies, whose own troops were flushed 
with recent victory, and whose garrison still held the fortress, 



DESTRUCTION OF THEBES. 399 

was from the first superior to the enemy. It was a striking 
outcome of Greek autonomy that the Thebans, in spite of 
their inferiority, determined to resist. They believed that the 
military exercises gone through in their gymnastic schools, 
and the physical strength with which they were endowed by 
nature, would enable them to withstand any foe. It is re- 
markable that they paid no attention to the unfavorable 
omens that occurred before the battle. Such omens, they 
said, had occurred before the battle of Leuctra, and yet that 
battle had been their greatest triumph. Philosophic doubt 
had made its way even to Thebes, and the Thebans hoped to 
overcome the opposition of fate by dint of manly resolu- 
tion. ]S"o doubt the exiles from other cities, whose only 
chance of safety lay in Thebes, kept up and even heightened 
their zeal. 

But with all their exertions they were no match for their 
too powerful enemy. Of the battle and its issue we have two 
accounts, differing according to the point of view of the two 
parties. According to the one, the Thebans were overpow- 
ered in front of their walls, and, as they retreated, the Make- 
donians pressed in with them into the city itself. According 
to the other account, the Thebans made an energetic and suc- 
cessful resistance to the Makedonian attack in front of their 
city until Alexander forced his way through a gate but slight- 
ly guarded, and was followed by his troops into the town. 
However this may be, the result was a catastrophe disastrous 
for Thebes. In the market-place, in the streets, in the very 
houses, there ensued a hideous massacre. The friends of the 
Thebans assure us that not one of the conquered bowed the 
knee before the conqueror, or pleaded for mercy, but that 
they died as men who welcomed death. The Hellenic allies 
of Alexander appear to have equalled, if not exceeded, the 
Makedonians in bloodthirstiness. The victors were, however, 
not satisfied with the slaughter. Alexander summoned a 
meeting of his League, by which the complete destruction of 
Thebes was decreed, and this destruction was actually carried 
out (October, 335 b.c). 

In Grecian history it was no unheard-of event that the 
members of the defeated nation should be sold into slavery, 



400 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

and so it happened on this occasion. The sale of the slaves 
supplied Alexander with a sum of money which was no in- 
considerable addition to his military chest. But his main ob- 
ject was to strike terror, and" this was spread through Greece 
by the ruthless destruction of the city of (Edipus, of Pindar, 
and of Epameinondas. The dwelling-house of Pindar, who 
had sung the praises of the iEakida?, from whom Alexander 
claimed descent, is said to have been spared in the destruction 
which spared nothing else. Deep and universal horror fell 
upon the Greeks. All the movements against Alexander 
which had been contemplated were stifled in their birth. On 
this occasion, as before, the attitude of Athens was of the 
greatest importance. Her submissiveness did not go to the 
length of giving up to Alexander his principal opponents, the 
orators, the mouthpieces, as it were, of the idea of autonomy. 
This last disgrace was avoided ; but the Athenians promised 
to bring to trial those of whom Alexander complained. This 
concession sufficed for the moment, for the issue of the con- 
flict with Thebes had worked almost as powerfully as the bat- 
tle of Chaeroneia to render the king's party supreme in the 
assembly. When those about him expressed their astonish- 
ment that the Greeks had been so rapidly dispersed, Alex- 
ander answered that only the habit of putting nothing off had 
secured him the victory. 

The close connection that existed at this moment between 
Grecian and Persian affairs forbade him to lose a moment in 
turning his arms towards Asia. It has always been assumed 
that Alexander, from the moment that he ascended the throne, 
had contemplated the overthrow of the Persian empire : that 
he saw his calling, so to speak, in this enterprise. I cannot 
venture to repeat this opinion without some limitations; but 
no doubt the tendency of events led him more and more 
strongly in that direction. A war between Alexander and 
Persia was inevitable, not only on account of the relation of 
the Greeks to Makedon, whose yoke they were very loath to 
bear, but on account of their relation to Persia, on whose sup- 
port they leaned. But an intention to make war upon Persia 
is not the same thing as an intention to overthrow the Persian 
empire. All that was necessary was to expel the Persians 



AFFAIRS IN PERSIA. 401 

from the districts which they had once wrested from the Lyd- 
ians; for in those districts all who opposed the Makedoni- 
ans found a refuge. The advantages which Alexander had 
won in Greece seemed likely to be but of momentary dura- 
tion so long as the great power on his flank lent support to 
his foes. 

Let us return for a moment to the relations formed during 
the recent conflict between Artaxerxes and Nectanebus. It 
will be recollected that the Persians owed the reconquest of 
Egypt and the recovery of their dominion in Asia Minor to 
the skill and bravery of Greek mercenaries. Mentor, the 
leader of these troops, had, however, not served Persia for 
nothing. He had lent his aid, as we saw above, on certain 
conditions, and as a reward for his services he now shared the 
complete command with Bagoas, who was omnipotent at the 
court of Susa. Mentor kept control over the Persian forces 
in Asia Minor, in the Mediterranean, and on its coasts. "VVe 
have already seen what use he made of these forces against 
Philip of Makedon. He held a commanding position when 
Alexander ascended the throne. The latter, if he was to 
maintain the supremacy which his father had seized, was 
obliged to make war on Mentor and the Persians, as formerly 
on the Triballi and on Thebes. The career which Philip had 
begun, and in which Alexander was now proceeding, led of 
necessity to a struggle with the power that held sway in Asia 
Minor. Until that power were defeated, the Makedonian 
kingdom could not be regarded as firmly established. 

Since an attack on Asia Minor involved open hostilities 
with the empire of the Achaemenida3, it was fortunate that 
such an undertaking was facilitated by the events which just 
then took place in Persia. A dispute about the succession to 
the throne had again broken out. As was not uncommon in 
Persia, the dispute took place during the lifetime of the 
reigning prince. Bagoas could therefore take measures to 
assure himself of power in the future. We are told that the 
eunuch himself put to death the aged monarch, and set aside 
all his sons excepting Arses, the youngest of them, whom 
he placed upon the throne. After some years he is said to 
have fallen out with the new king, and to have disposed of 

26 



402 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

him in like manner. In the place of Arses he set up one of 
his friends, Darius Codomannus, who belonged to another 
line of the Acha3inenid house.* Not long after his friend had 
taken possession of the throne of Darius llystaspis, Bagoas 
quarrelled with him like the rest. It is said that he offered 
the king a poisoned cup, but that Darius, warned in time, 
compelled him to drink it himself. We cannot investigate 
the truth of these stories in detail, but the mere fact of a vio- 
lent change in the government, even if this did not involve a 
change of dynasty, shook the whole empire to its base. The 
death of Bagoas, who had hitherto wielded the supreme 
power, must have made a great difference in the internal 
affairs of Persia. The power of Bagoas had been intimately 
connected with the authority of the commander of the mer- 
cenaries in Asia Minor. Mentor himself was dead, but his 
brother Memnon managed to retain possession of the power 
which the former had exercised. His relation to the Great 
King, to whom he remained faithful, was essentially different 
from that which his brother had established by his services in 
PhoBnicia and Egypt. The rise of a second line of the Achce- 
menid house could not fail to have its effect upon the holders 
of the highest offices of state and especially the satraps. 

We cannot say with certainty that it was these circum- 
stances which induced Alexander to undertake his campaign, 
but the circumstances were notorious and tended to his ad- 
vantage. We may, however, regard the matter from another 
point of view. The enterprise of Alexander, while owing its 



* According; to Diodorus, Darius ascended the throne a little before 
the time of Philip's death (Diod. xvii. 7: Aape'iog TrapciXapuv n)r fiamXeiav 
Tpi'i fi'tv -i/<," 4>«\i<T7rou reXfi'ri/f l^tXori/Utro rov /.ttWovra 7roXf/(o»' tig rt)v 
MaKstioviav airooTptyai). Therewith agrees the statement in Syncellus 
(p. 2G1, ed. Par.; p. 501, cd. Bonn.) to the effect that Alexander became 
king in the first year of Darius, as 'well as the reckoning of the duration 
of Darius's reign at six years and two months, which is found in Jo- 
hannes Antiochenus; the accession of Darius would thus have taken 
place in the spring of 336, since he died in August, 330. On the other 
hand, according to the Ptolemaic canon Darius must have succeeded in 
the year 413 of the era of . Nabonassar, i. e. after November 15, in the 
year 330 B.C. 



NEED OF WAR WITH PERSIA. 403 

immediate occasion to the complications of the moment, has 
also what we may call its universal-historical side. It is unde- 
niable that the existence of the Iranian monarchy in the 
regions of its birth was justified by the grandeur of the relig- 
ious and political views which it represented. But to rule 
the world was beyond the capacity of the Persians. The 
Persian empire had become powerful, because wherever it ap- 
peared it put an end to the mutual rivalries of the nations 
with which it came in contact. But it did not follow that 
Egypt, with its thoroughly local ideas, should remain forever 
chained to a distant throne. It did not follow that the sea- 
faring people of Phoenicia should establish a species of mari- 
time empire with the sole object of laying out pleasure-gar- 
dens for the Persian satraps. Between the superstitions of 
Syria and the dualistic religion of Persia there was a wide 
gulf, even if the contrast was not always apparent. "Was the 
priesthood of Baal, at Babylon, a priesthood which exercised 
sway over a considerable portion of the world, likely to sub- 
mit contentedly to the protection of the Great King and of 
his religion ? If there was nothing else to hinder this, it was 
rendered impossible by the existence of agreatTyrian colony 
in the western basin of the Mediterranean, which exercised 
intellectual and political dominion over a great part of the 
west. Western Asia was in a state of ceaseless ferment. 
The nations who inhabited that district enjoyed a certain con- 
sideration from the Persians, but they were chained to the 
chariot of the Great King, whose religious ideas attained their 
climax in the thought that universal dominion belonged to 
him. But to what would such a dominion have led if it could 
ever have been attained? The further existence of these 
nations, as such, depended on the reduction of the Persian 
power to something less than its present extent. 

To leave reflections of this nature, there was still an im- 
pulse from earlier times, which had a tendency analogous to 
that of the conditions we have just considered. "When the 
Makedonians assumed the hegemony of Greece, they were 
naturally prompted to make use of the antipathy which the 
Greeks for more than a century and a half had cherished 
against the Persians. The idea of avenging the Grecian gods 



404 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

upon the Persians had been conceived by Pericles, and had 
roused Agesilaus to the greatest activity. This enthusiasm 
was by no means common to the whole nation, but it had 
never died out or been eradicated. The opponents of those 
who had formed the league with Persia held fast to that idea, 
and at the head of this party now appeared the kings of 
Makedonia. It must also be remembered that the supremacy 
which Philip and Alexander enjoyed in Greece was closely 
connected with an object of religious reverence to all Creeks 
alike. They had appeared in Greece as the protectors of the 
Delphic oracle, which embraced and united in one harmoni- 
ous whole all the religious feelings of Greece. 

Never was there a prince more capable than Alexander of 
absorbing and representing ideas like these. They corre- 
sponded to the pride and traditions of his family. His boast 
was not only that he was descended from Heracles, whose 
actions procured him a place among the gods, but also from 
the ^Eakidse, whose fame, founded on the poems of Homer, 
was in all men's mouths. He believed himself called to con- 
tinue the heroic deeds of the Trojan war, and to light out the 
battle which, according to the conception of the earliest histo- 
rian, had raged from time immemorial between Europe and 
Asia. 

In Alexander's breast there beat a pulse at once poetical 
and religious, animated by the honors paid to his heroic an- 
cestors, and by the legends which the poets had made the 
property of the nation. For him, the poems of Homer were 
a sort of legal document on which he based his rights, while 
he held fast to the national religion with a kind of fervor. 
This fervor has been well traced to the fact that his mother, 
Olvmpias, his youthful attachment to whom was heightened 
by the injustice which she had received from his father, had 
initiated him in the Samothracian mysteries. Put, at the 
same time, he was the pupil of Aristotle, who, as already 
pointed out, was eager, for the sake of their own civilization, 
to free the Asiatics from the Persian yoke. In Alexander 
an enthusiastic imagination was allied with Hellenic ideas in 
general. While forcing the Greeks to submit to his lead, he 
nourished the thought that it was their war with the Persians 



INVASION OF PERSIA. 405 

that lie was about to renew, and their culture for which ho 
was to open a wider field of influence. Alexander is one of 
the few men whose personal biography is closely interwoven 
with the world's history. The natural bent of his character 
led to the conclusion of a struggle, begun centuries before, 
on the issue of which the further progress of human develop- 
ment depended. 

When Alexander set out on his great enterprise, he did not 
hesitate to leave behind him a considerable portion of his 
army, under command of Antipater, to maintain his authority 
in Makedonia and Greece. In the infantry which followed 
him to Asia the allies and Greek mercenaries were quite as 
numerous as the Makedonians. Beside these, there were 
Odrysians, Triballi, Ulyrians, and Agrianian archers. The 
Thessalian cavalry were equal in number to the Makedonian, 
and in addition there were cavalry of pure Greek extraction, 
and Thracian and Pssonian horsemen. All were under trusty 
and experienced commanders, who had attached themselves to 
Alexander in his recent undertakings. They gladly recog- 
nized in him their general, as he had proved himself in the 
field, though all did not recognize him as their native king. 
But that he was such a king was never for a moment for- 
gotten. 

The Greek colonies, which had thwarted Philip, were not 
inclined to oppose his son, and Alexander, like Xerxes, crossed 
the Hellespont without meeting any resistance. The crossing 
took place in the early spring of the year 334 b.c. The 
smallness of the Grecian army, which numbered only 35,000 
men, was compensated by its military experience, and the fleet 
which carried it across the straits was well equipped. Alex- 
ander himself was full of the ideas which animate the Homer- 
ic poems. Of his conduct under their influence we find two 
traditions. According to the one, which has the weight of 
Arrian's authority, he offered a sacrifice, immediately on his 
landing, at the grave of Protesilaus, who, as we read in the 
Homeric poem, had been the first to touch the land, and had 
immediately perished. The meaning of the sacrifice was that 
Alexander, on coming to land, wished to be saved from the 
fate of him whom he imitated. The other tradition, which 



400 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

we find in Diodorus, is to the effect that Alexander, when his 
ships first drew near the Trojan shore, threw his spear to land. 
The spear penetrated the ground, and he sprang to shore with 
the remark that he took it as a lucky omen that Asia was to 
be a prey to his arms. The conneetion of these stories with 
llomerie times is undeniable. Such ideas had already ap- 
peared in Agesilaus. What Agesilaus had failed to do, the 
king Of Makedonia now undertook, with the widest intentions 
and in the noblest style. 

The army assembled at Arisbe, and, after leaving garrisons 
in a few places, marched against the Persians, who collected 
their forces on the other side of the Graneicns, We are in- 
formed that between Memnon and the Persians who were 
present in Asia Minor, and who were mostly friends or rela- 
tions of the king, some misunderstanding had arisen as to the 
plan of the campaign. Nothing is more probable, for the 
Persians belonged to the new government, and naturally 
looked askance at a commander of Greek mercenaries whose 
power paralyzed their own. Memnon, we are told, was in- 
clined to put oil* the decisive conflict, and to lay waste the 
neighboring districts, in order to make it difficult, if not im- 
possible, for the Makedonians to obtain provisions. lie had 
himself lived for a time at the Makedonian court, where he 
had become acquainted with the military strength of Make- 
donia and with the relations between that country and the 
Greeks. lie was convinced that the war with Alexander 
should be carried on by the same methods as those that had 
proved successful against the superior forces of Athens and 
the invasions o( Agesilaus. That is to say, the war must be 
transferred to Greece itself, and for this purpose the superi- 
ority of the Persian navy to the Makedonian gave them great 
advantages. But to all this the Persians turned a deaf ear. 
They would not for a moment endure the presence of a for- 
eign prince in the territory which had so long been subject 
to the Great King. They said, with some justice, that not a 
single village could be ceded to King Alexander. To this 
resolution they obstinately adhered, and determined to meet 
the king on the steep batiks of the Graneicns (May, 834 B.C.). 

At the very crossing of the river Alexander displayed the 



BATTLE OF THE GRANEICUS. 407 

full superiority of his military talent. The Persians had ex- 
pected that the Makedonians would try to cross in columns, 
in which case the stream itself and the marshy ground would 
give them the opportunity of throwing the enemy into con- 
fusion. But Alexander, instead of arranging his troops in col- 
umns, drew them up in a long line of battle along the shore. 
lie then formed smaller divisions of cavalry and infantry, 
who, by supporting each other as they crossed the stream, 
succeeded in reaching the opposite side. In climbing the 
steep bank a struggle ensued, in which the Persians, by hurl- 
ing their lances down on the advancing troops, caused some 
confusion, but only for a moment. The Makedonians, armed 
with long spears with shafts of seasoned wood, pressed irre- 
sistibly onwards immediately under the eye of the king. 

!No sooner was the opposite bank reached than a new en- 
gagement took place between the Persian and Makedonian 
cavalry. In this conflict the king distinguished himself be- 
yond any of his followers. In that age the issue of a battle 
was often decided by a duel between the commanders, and 
it was after winning such a duel that Darius Codomannus 
ascended the throne. In this case the son-in-law of Darius, 
at the head of a squadron drawn up in the form of a wedge, 
threw himself upon Alexander. Alexander met him with 
great bravery, and hurled him from his horse. Another 
noble Persian was unhorsed by him with a thrust of his spear. 
A third, who fell upon the king, and had actually raised his 
sword to strike him, was anticipated by Cleitus, a personal 
friend of Alexander, who, coming up in the nick of time, 
dealt the assailant a blow which severed his head from his 
body. Such is the story related by the trustworthy author 
whom Arrian follows.* But enough of details. The Persian 
cavalry lost in this battle the prestige which they had hitherto 
enjoyed. The only serious resistance which Alexander met 
was from the Greek mercenaries, but these, too, he over- 
powered. 

The victory thus won was followed by decisive results 
throughout the whole country. The Persian commander and 

* I pass over the differences in the story as told by other authors. 



408 THE MAKKDONIAN EMPIRE. 

the most eminent citizens of Sardis united, at the approach 
of Alexander, to surrender to him both city and fortress. 
Thence he turned his steps to Miletus. Hard pressed by land 
and sea, the inhabitants of Miletus and the foreigners in the 
city became aware that they could not hold the town. The 
inhabitants surrendered and were kindly received by the con- 
queror.* The resistance attempted by the rest of the popula- 
tion led only to their destruction. 

The scene of conflict next shifted to llalicarnassus. Mem- 
non had thrown himself into that city with all the forces 
still capable of fighting. By intrusting his wife and child to 
the Persian king as hostages, he obviated all mistrust and 
jealousy, and under his leadership the inhabitants made a 
vigorous defence. We have two accounts of the siege, one 
of which comes from the Makcdonian camp, while the other 
is derived from Graeco-Persian sources. Both are trustwor- 
thy, and, although originating on different sides, really im- 
partial. We gather from these accounts, on the one hand, 
that the attack was made with all the siege-artillery which 
military science, as then understood in Greece, could bring 
into the iield, and that this artillery was w r orkcd by the 
bravest and most experienced troops ; while, on the other 
hand, we infer that the courage and skill of the defenders, 
who relied chiefly on great catapults erected on the walls, 
was equal to that of their assailants. The defenders made 
several sorties, in which they succeeded in setting on lire the 
wooden battering-engines erected by the enemy. In the city 
there were several Athenians of the party which rejected 
every compromise with Alexander. One of these, named 
Ephialtes, who combined great resolution with enormous phys- 
ical strength, gained great reputation in the town. Alex- 
ander had offered an armistice in order to bury the soldiers 
who had fallen before the walls. Memnon granted this in 
spite of the opposition of Ephialtes, who would have nothing 
to say to it. But when Ephialtes advised the garrison to 
bring matters to a close by means of a sortie in force, his pro- 

* 60 we are assured by Diodorus, the question of whose trustworthi- 
ness I reserve for special consideration. 



CONQUEST OF ASIA MINOR. 409 

posal was accepted by Memnon, and the sortie took place. 
The defenders succeeded in burning the best of the enemy's 
machines, and in the conflict which thus originated there came 
a moment in which the besieged had good hopes of victory. 
But when Alexander with his best troops entered the field, 
the enemy gave way. Ephialtes himself perished, and the 
Makedonians would have penetrated into the city along with 
the flying foe, had not Alexander himself restrained them. 
The advantage already gained was decisive. The besieged 
had suffered such heavy losses that, with Memnon's consent, 
they resolved to give up the city. They transported the 
greater part of the inhabitants to a neighboring island, and 
garrisoned only the Acropolis with such troops as were still 
capable of fighting. Alexander took possession of the town 
and levelled it with the ground. He had no intention of 
wasting time over the siege of the citadel. He was now mas- 
ter of the coasts, and had freed the Greek cities from the Per- 
sian yoke. He relieved them from the tribute they had hith- 
erto paid, and gave them permission to live under their own 
laws. He made no opposition to the revolutions which every- 
where took place, by which oligarchs were displaced, and a 
democratic form of government restored. 

In Ephesus, the revenue derived from the tribute hitherto 
paid was dedicated to the shrine of Artemis in that city. This 
shrine was the most important of those in which the worship 
of that goddess was carried on in pure Hellenic fashion. The 
position which Alexander had taken up as champion of the 
Greek nationality he maintained with magnificent consistency. 
From the spoils taken at the Graneicus he selected three hun- 
dred suits of armor, which he sent as a votive offering to the 
shrine of Pallas at Athens. On them were inscribed the 
words, " Alexander and all the Greeks, except the Lakedce- 
monians, present these spoils, taken from the Asiatic bar- 
barians." But Alexander meant also to appear as the libera- 
tor of the native population. He permitted the Lydians to 
live after their ancient laws. Sardis was now taken for the 
third time. As a sign to what system it was thenceforward 
to belong, Alexander founded a temple to Olympian Zeus on 
the place where the ancient royal palace had stood. He left 



410 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

a body of Makcdonian troops for the protection of the Carina 
princess Ada, wlio placed herself under his protection and 
adopted him as her son. The league of the Lycian cities did 
him homage (winter of 334-3 B.C.). He was greeted by the 
inhabitants of Phaselis with a golden crown as soon as he came 
into their neighborhood. In return for this, he did them the 
service of destroying a fortified post which the plundering 
tribes of Pisidia had erected on their frontier. From the 
latter, who had never been subdued by the Persians, he 
wrested the command of their mountain-passes, and made his 
w T ay through the midst of their country to the fortress of 
Gordium. Here he was joined by Parmenio, who meanwhile 
had traversed Phrygia. Neither one nor the other had met 
with any real resistance in the interior of Asia Minor. The 
importance of Gordium lay in the fact that it enabled Alex- 
ander to maintain his communications with the Hellespont 
and with Makcdonia. 

Meanwhile, Memnon, formally intrusted by the Persian 
court with supreme command, and furnished with the needful 
pecuniary means, had set about the execution of his original 
plan, that of stirring up opposition to the Makedonian king 
in his rear in Hellas. He launched a fleet of three hundred 
sail and manned it with mercenary troops. The fleet directed 
its course upon Chios, which was at once conquered. Lesbos 
was next taken and even Mytilenc ; the latter, however, not 
without considerable trouble.* Thereupon the Kyklades sent 
envoys to greet him. In the treaties made in consequence 
of these events, the provisions of the peace of Antalkidas 
were renewed. It was thought that the fleet would arrive in 
a short time off Eubcea. The party favorable to Persia was 
everywhere stirring, and especially in Lakedcemon. A com- 
plete turn of affairs was universally expected. 

Acting in harmony with his allies, the king of Persia col- 
lected all his forces to oppose an enemy w r ho attacked him 
with greater vehemence than any had attacked before. He 



* Diodorus (xvii. 29) says this expressly : " fi6\ie tl\e Kara KpaTOQ." Ac- 
cording to Arrian, ii. 1, 3, Memnon laid siege to the town, but it was not 
till after his death that it fell into the hands of the Persian admirals. 



THE BATTLE OF ISSUS. 41 1 

was entirely of the same opinion as that which had animated 
his nearest relations and friends at the arrival of Alexander. 
He declared that he would no longer tolerate on the borders 
of his empire that band of robbers, for so he designated Alex- 
ander and his troops. He was eager to prevent Phoenicia, on 
which his navy, consisting mainly of Phoenician ships and 
men, depended, from falling into the hands of the Make- 
donians. It was true that his captains had been beaten on 
the banks of the Graneicus ; but this only roused him to 
greater activity. He mobilized the greater part of the forces 
of his empire, and had no doubt that they would overpower 
and annihilate the enemy. That enemy had meanwhile made 
rapid progress, but it was the universal conviction in Greece 
that his destruction was certain. In Athens it was said that 
the Persians would trample the Makedonians under their 
feet * Darius himself hoped to hunt Alexander like a wild 
beast. 

He succeeded in taking possession of the passes of Mount 
Amanns, through which Alexander had marched, in the rear 
of the Makedonians, but the only result of this was to pro- 
voke the military ardor of the latter, who now saw them- 
selves in real danger. Without a moment's delay, Alexander 
turned round and attacked the king at the point where he 
thought to hem him in. The armies came into collision on 
the banks of the river Pinarus, which flows from the neigh- 
boring mountains to the sea (November, 333 B.C.). The 
Makedonians were not hindered by the fact that Darius had 
taken up a strong position on the other side of the stream, 
supported by two separate bodies, one of which occupied the 
nearer heights, the other the sea-coast. The attack was made 
at all three points, and the issue was decided by the fact that 
the river proved no defence for the king of Persia. Not only 
the Makedonian cavalry, but also their infantry, passed the 
Pinarus, as they had passed the Graneicus. The most critical 
moment of the battle was when the Makedonian phalanx, on 
crossing the stream, came into collision with the Greek mer- 



.* Demosthenes is said by iEschines (against Ctesiphon, $ 164, p. 177) 
to have used these words. 



11 2 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

cenaries who guarded the passage. Between these forces a 
sanguinary conflict ensued. The Makedonians were being 

hard pressed, when Alexander hurried up, and by a rapid 
movement wheeled his infantry so as to take the mercenaries 
in flank — a manoeuvre which decided the battle. 

The struggle was thus not so much between the Persian 
and the Makedonian nations as between the Makedonian force 
drilled after the Greek model, and the mercenary troops whom 
the Persians had called to their aid from Greece. So far, 
earlier events only repeated themselves at Issus. Former 
victories were confirmed and completed by that battle. But 
the battle received an importance which exceeded that of all 
preceding victories from the presence of the Great King, who 
now suffered a defeat in person. Darius, in spite of his per- 
sonal bravery, was forced to seek safety in flight. He re- 
mained in his chariot as long as possible; but in the narrow 
pass through which the road led he mounted a horse and 
rode away. The narrow limits and mountainous nature of 
the battlefield, which might have proved disastrous to the 
Makedonians, now proved doubly disastrous to the Persians. 
Their loss was enormous. It must have made a deep impres- 
sion upon Alexander when among the spoils were found the 
chariot and the shield, the bow and the mantle, of Darius, 
which in his haste he had left behind. Alexander had not 
only conquered Asia Minor, but he had won a decisive victory 
over the Great King. His whole position was thereby altered. 
In the Persian camp the conqueror found the mother, wife, 
and children of Darius, who had followed him to a battle 
from which nothing but glory was expected. Alexander al- 
ways showed respect for those who were, like himself, of 
royal dignity, and he treated Ids distinguished captives with 
consideration and magnanimity. 

The battle of the GraneiCQS had opened the way into Asia 
"Minor; the battle of Issus opened the way into the heart of 
Persia. A great general of this century has praised Alex- 
ander for determining first of all to subdue Phoenicia and 
Egypt, in order thus to secure for himself a basis for wider 
operations. Whether this decision rested upon personal feel- 
mi;- and military calculation or not, we do not venture to in- 



SIEGE OK TYRE. 4L3 

quire. The course pursued was, in either ease, that which was 
demanded by the general position of affairs, and by the prin- 
cipal aims of the expedition. The enemy's fleet was still in 
command of the sea, and it was at this von- moment making 
a descent upon Greece. It was absolutely necessary to moot 
this attack, but it could not be met directly, for the Graeeo- 
Makedonian fleet was far too weak for the purpose When 
Alexander first took possession of the coasts of Asia Minor 
it became evident that these circumstances involved him in 
almost insuperable difficulties. "Many different plans are said 
to have boon proposed to meet thom. hut they were out short 
by Alexander, whose general scheme of action was determined 
by a portent which ho saw at l.ado. His scheme, which was 
rendered feasible by his superiority on land, was briefly this: 
to win control of the sea by taking possession of the coasts 
and the seaports. 

The importance of this plan, and the method of carrying 
it out, were now for the first time disclosed. Phoenician ships 
formed almost the whole o( the Persian fleet, ami the first re- 
sult of the battle of Issus was that PhOMlicia could now bo 
attacked from the land side. Everything depended on the 
possession of Tyre. The Tyrians kept up a constant connec- 
tion with Carthage, and their two fleets, now joined by a por- 
tion of the Greek naval force, confined the Makedonian fleet 
to a very limited space.' Their superiority at sea did not, 
however, save the greater part o( the Phoenician cities from 
falling into the hands of Alexander. This was a most impor- 
tant advantage, but Tyre, the chief city of Phoenicia, refused 
to submit, and forbade Alexander \o set foot within her walls. 
An attempt to reach the island by throwing a causeway across 
the channel was thwarted by the Tyrian navy, and by tire- 
ships directed against the mole. Alexander found that he 
could break the Phoenician resistance only by moans of the 
Phoenicians themselves and their allies. This, too, was ren- 
dered possible by the victory at Issus. 

The Cyprians, alarmed by that victory, and anxious for 
their own safety, went over to Alexander, while the princes 
of the Phoenician cities which ho had taken left the Persian 
fleet and placed their vessels at his disposal. After some 



414: THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

lapse of time lie was able to appear before Tyre with a supe- 
rior navy, so that the island city was now exposed to ceaseless 
attacks by sea and land. It would be well worth while, from 
the point of view of military science, to examine in detail the 
attack and defence of the city, the former of which is de- 
scribed by Arrian, the latter by Diodorus; but we must pass 
this by, for our object is only to take a general view of his- 
tory. The Tyrians defended themselves with skill and hero- 
ism, but in their defence they displayed that combination of 
cruelty and superstition which had already shown itself in 
earlier centuries and among other Semitic races. The Make- 
donians who fell into their hands were slaughtered upon the 
walls as offerings to Moloch, and their corpses were thrown 
into the sea, an atrocity which inflamed the Makedonian army 
with still fiercer resentment and thirst for vengeance. Alex- 
ander led not only the naval operations, but also those of the 
land force employed in the siege, and appeared in person on 
the bridge which had been thrown from the mole to the walls 
of Tyre. His ubiquity and insight were in the highest degree 
encouraging to his troops. 

After a siege of seven months, Tyre was at last stormed 
from the seaward side (July, 332 B.C.). We are assured that, 
among the prisoners, all the young men capable of bearing 
arms, two thousand in number, were hung, or, as has been 
supposed, crucified. Arrian says nothing of this hideous 
massacre : there can clearly have been no report of it in the 
accounts which lay before him. lie relates, however, that 
thirty thousand prisoners were sold into slavery. The per- 
sons of authority in the city, including the king, together with 
the ambassadors from Carthage, who had taken refuge in the 
temple of Heracles, were admitted by Alexander to favor. In 
that temple, which the Tyrians had forbidden him to enter, 
he now made a solemn sacrifice to Heracles, who was hence- 
forward to be regarded not simply as a Tyrian, but rather as 
a Grecian, god. The whole fleet and army appeared in all 
their splendor to celebrate a festival in honor of the god, ac- 
companied by gymnastic games and torchlight processions. 
Alexander had overthrown the city and its navy, and the god 
of Tyre at the same time. The siege artillery which he had 



ALEXANDER LN EGYPT. 415 

used against Tyre was now brought to bear upon the ancient 
and renowned city of Gaza. That town was at last taken by 
storm.* The inhabitants defended themselves till the last, 
each one in the place where he stood. The men all perished, 
their wives and children were sold as slaves. The city, how- 
ever, was repopulated by the neighboring tribes, for Alexan- 
der intended to use it as an arsenal.f 

The storm which burst upon the ancient friends and foes 
of the Hebrew race was not likely to leave Jerusalem un- 
touched. The inhabitants of that city had only lately been 
restored ; of its contact with Alexander there is no contem- 
porary report. The account that we possess is colored by 
Levitic influences, and decorated with legendary additions, but 
it contains some striking information, and therefore deserves 
notice. Jerusalem was at this moment in active feud with 
the Persian satrap at Samaria. The latter, paying no respect 
to that purity of race which the inhabitants strove to main- 
tain, had endeavored to set up a new shrine upon Mount 
Gerizim. It was in accordance with the system of Alexander 
to receive into favor those who made their submission. We 
may believe that he spared Jerusalem, and permitted the 
Jews, like the Ionian Greeks, to live according to their an- 
cient laws. Be this as it may, Alexander was now acknowl- 
edged ruler in Palestine, and could set out for Egypt in secu- 
rity. 

Hitherto, every power that forced its way from the north 
into the land of the Nile had only introduced some new form 
of subjection. Alexander, on the contrary, came as a libera- 
tor. Amyntas, a renegade Makedonian, had withdrawn from 
Cyprus and Phoenicia before the events last related, with a 
portion of the troops which had escaped from the battle of 
Issus, and had landed on the coast of Egypt. There he en- 
deavored to set himself up as the successor of the late satrap, 
avIio had fallen at Issus, but he encountered a resistance from 



* After a siege of two months (Diodorus, xvii. 48). On the seventh day 
after the taking of Gaza Alexander reached Pelusium (Arriau, iii. 1, 1 ; 
Curtius, iv. 29=7, 2). 

t It was at this spot that he first came into contact with the Arabs. 



416 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

the natives which ended in the destruction of himself and all 
his troops. The frequent efforts of the ancient country of 
Egypt to recover its independence, which had more than once, 
in the course of ages, shaken the Persian dominion, will 
doubtless be remembered. On the last occasion Egypt had 
been reduced to subjection only by means of Greek mercena- 
ries in the pay of Persia. She now saw herself invaded by a 
king at whose hands both Persians and mercenaries had suf- 
fered defeat. Such an invasion could not fail to be welcomed 
by the native authorities. The whole country submitted to 
Alexander as he marched forward from Pelusium to Mem- 
phis. Ear from doing violence to the Egyptian religion, he 
infused into its superstitious rites a breath of Greek idealism. 
He introduced into the festivals gymnastic exercises and 
games in honor of the Muses. While occupied in discharging 
the duties of government he returned to the coast to meet 
Hegelochus, the commander of his fleet in the ^Egtean Sea. 
Hegclochus was able to inform him that Tenedos and Chios, 
which Memnon had wrested from Makedonian rule, had been 
reconquered after his death, which took place before Myti- 
lene ; that Lesbos had been recovered by negotiation ; lastly, 
that the inhabitants of Cos had voluntarily submitted. Some 
of the banished leaders of the opposite party Hegelochus 
brought with him. Alexander sent the chief of them to Ele- 
phantine. 

The possession of Egypt made Alexander master of the 
JEgsean Sea, or, rather, of the whole eastern basin of the Med- 
iterranean. The fortunate coincidence of these events was 
fittingly commemorated by the foundation of a new city, 
whose circuit he is said to have marked out with his own 
hand. The city was planted on the most suitable spot, and 
on ground that had originally been Libyan. An architect, 
who a short time before had restored the temple of Diana at 
Ephesus, Deinocrates by name, a man of wide ideas and tech- 
nical skill, aided him in the work. After the Peira?us at 
Athens, this was the first city in the world erected expressly 
for purposes of commerce. The streets crossed each other at 
right angles, and the larger of them were double the width of 
the less important. The city was called Alexandria, after its 



ALEXANDER IN EGYPT. 417 

founder. It was a city admirably calculated to be the cen- 
tre of his conquests, so far as they had gone, while, at the 
same time, it marked the completion of the long conflict be- 
tween Egypt, Phoenicia, Asia Minor, and Greece. In the 
place of dependence on the great empires of Asia appeared 
now the combined influence of Greece and Makedonia. 

It might have seemed that enough had now been done. It 
has been maintained that Alexander should have contented 
himself with consolidating the conquered districts into one 
great empire. But had this been possible, had ambition and 
activity been able to set themselves definite limits, it must be 
remembered that the connection between these districts and 
Persia had existed for nearly two centuries, and had, in spite 
of all counteracting influences, struck deep root. It must 
also be remembered that the Persian empire, though over- 
powered for the moment, was by no means reduced to impo- 
tence. The king, who regarded himself as Lord of the 
"World, must have denied his own claims had he been content 
to give up such rich and extensive districts without further 
contest. 

With a view to the solution of this question Alexander 
visited the shrine of Amon-Ra, in the oasis of Siwah. This 
oasis had been, since time immemorial, a station on the com- 
mercial route through the desert. In it a temple had been 
founded, the oracular responses of which passed for infallible. 
The temple enjoyed the advantage of never having fallen 
into the hands of the Persians, which secured for it a greater 
independence than belonged to that of the Branchidse, or 
even that of Delphi. Kimon, before the last serious enter- 
prise which he undertook, had visited the god Anion. The 
answer he received pointed to his early death. A great part 
of the undertakings which Kimon had contemplated had now 
been completed by Alexander when he paid a visit to the 
oracle. Legendary tradition, here unusually ornate, makes 
him overcome the difficulties that encumbered the way only 
by aid of ravens that flew before him, or serpents that ap- 
peared to show the track. A simpler story, and one in itself 
of greater importance, is followed by Diodorus. According 
to this story, the high-priest, himself a prince, greeted Alex- 

27 



418 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

finder on his arrival in the name of the god as his son. 
Alexander addressed him as father, and said that he would 
always regard himself as the son of Amon if the latter would 
grant him the dominion of the world. The priest retired into 
the holy place, where it was customary, after going through 
the proper rites, to consult the god, and returned with the an- 
swer that Amon granted Alexander's request, and would hold 
fast to his promise. 

What this answer meant at this particular moment is per- 
fectly clear. The Great King of Persia, with whom Alexan- 
der was at war, was accustomed in his edicts to designate 
himself as the lord of all men on earth, from the rising to the 
setting of the sun. This claim, which rested on the doctrine 
of Ormuzd, was now contradicted by the promise of Amon- 
Ea, the god of Egypt. The sonship, which the god conferred 
upon the king, had this special importance, that it caused 
Alexander to be looked on as a successor of the Pharaohs, 
who had always been regarded as holding that relation to the 
god. But it possessed still greater importance from the fact 
that the transference of universal power to Alexander w r as 
now promised. In the traditional account the promise resem- 
bles a treaty between Alexander and the god. The priests 
told him that the proof of his relationship to Amon would lie 
in the greatness of his deeds and attainments ;* that he should 
be, and remain for all time, invincible. In the oracular re- 
sponse was implied, one might almost say, an alliance between 
the Grecian gods, eager to avenge the destruction of their 
temples upon the Persians, and the Egyptian Amon-Pa, who 
now appeared again in all his old independence and all the 
fulness of his power. Meanwhile, Alexander had received 
messages of reconciliation from the Persian court. He is said 
to have made answer that there could not be two suns in 
heaven. Two supreme authorities in the world would have 
been engaged in ceaseless conflict. 

The struggle had therefore to be renewed. Alexander, 
like Necho of old, directed his march (331 b.c.) towards the 

* Diodorus, XVli. 51 : rtK^jpiov d' tataQai rt]Q Ik tov 9eov ytviaeioc to pe- 
ytGoQ tuiv iv Talg irpu&oi KaropOiofiarcov. 



BATTLE OF GAUGAMELA. 419 

Euphrates,* the passage of which caused him more trouble 
than the Persian armies. He did not, however, as yet vent- 
ure to attack Babylon, which, so long as the Persian power 
was not thoroughly broken, would have made the most stren- 
uous resistance. It was against Persia itself that his attack 
was directed. lie passed the Tigris without meeting with 
any opposition, but on the other side of that river Darius 
had pitched his camp. The spot is one which has always 
been of the greatest importance for the connection between 
Eastern and Western Asia, for there the great military routes 
intersect each other. It was near the village of Gaugamela, 
not far from Nineveh. f In the region where the Assyrian 
empire had arisen, and where it had been overthrown by the 
Medes, the Medo-Persian empire was now to struggle for its 
existence with the forces of Greece and Makedonia. 

No collision of the great forces of the world possessing 
more distinctive features or greater importance for the fate 
of mankind has ever taken place. In the camp of Darius 
were united contingents from the different nationalities of 
east and west. There were Cappadocians and Armenians ; 
there were troops from Koele-Syria, Babylonians, and Carians 
transplanted from their native land ; there were Hyrcanian, 
Parthian, and Tapyrian horse ; there were Medes, Cadusians, 
and Arachosians, mounted archers from Bactria and Sogdiana, 
and wild tribes from the shores of the Persian Gulf. A di- 
vision of Indian troops was combined with the Bactrians 

* Alexander started from Memphis in the early spring (" u/ia t$ fjpi 
Trpo^aiVovrt," Arrian, iii. 6) of the year 331, 01. 112, 1. 

t The statement of Strabo (xvi. 53, p. 737), that the battle, the scene of 
which was generally fixed at Arbela, took place at Gaugamela, is con- 
firmed by Arrian (vi. 11, 5) in a supplementary remark. But researches 
that have been made on the spot make it doubtful whether the distances 
are rightly given by the latter. (Comp. Karl Ritter, " Asien," ix. p. 700.) 
The battle took place in the archonship of Aristophanes (Arrian, iii. 15), 01. 
112, 2, on the 26th of Boedromion (Plutarch, " Camillus," chap. 19, " nip- 

<jui fi?]vuc BoT]Cpo^iiovor -iiTTifirjaav 7rs/*7rry tyQivovTOQ "), i. e. On Oct. 1, 331 B.C. 

An eclipse of the moon had taken place eleven nights before, in the night 
of Sept. 20-21 (Plutarch, " Alexander," chap. 30). Comp. Clinton, " Fasti 
Hell." ii. pp. 341 sq., and Bockh, " Zur Geschichte der Mondcyclen der 
Hellenen," p. 4G. 



420 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

under command of Bessus. We are informed that Darius 
had improved the weapons of his soldiers, had repaired the 
scythe-chariots, and had taken measures to prevent the mis- 
understandings likely, to arise among members of so many 
diverse nationalities. But with all this care it was still an 
army of the same kind as that with which Xerxes had in- 
vaded Greece. The Persian forces, though infinitely more 
numerous than the Grecian army at Chceroneia, were still 
more heterogeneous in composition, and were no match for 
the army that Alexander had created. That army, proceeding 
on from one victory to another, had grown ever more com- 
pact, and was now invincible. 

Only in one part of the field was victory for a moment 
doubtful. The left wing of the Makedonian army was hard 
pressed by the enemy's cavalry. It was, however, saved by a 
charge headed by Alexander in person. The scythe-chariots 
recoiled from the serried ranks of the phalanx, which at the 
right moment took up an impregnable position. The decisive 
combat, however, took place on the right wing. Here Alex- 
ander commanded in person, and, as all our authorities agree, 
directed his efforts against Darius himself. We are told that, 
at the moment when his attack was made, the charioteer of 
Darius was slain. The people about him, thinking that it 
was Darius who had perished, lost courage, took to flight, and 
carried the king along with them. Nothing but the personal 
presence of the Great King had kept the vast host in order : 
the report of his death produced general confusion. The 
Oriental method of warfare, in which different nationalities 
fought each under leaders of its own, proved as incapable of 
resistance when met by the battle-array of the Gixeco-Make- 
donian army as the empire which it represented. 

The victory won, Alexander turned to Babylon. Here he 
might well have expected to meet with opposition, for the 
citadel was garrisoned by Persian troops, and one of the Per- 
sian commanders had fled thither from the battlefield. Alex- 
ander marched up to the walls of Babylon in order of battle, 
with his troops fully prepared for action. To take the place 
by siege would have proved no easy task, even for troops who 
had proved invincible in the open field. But the results of 



ALEXANDER AT BABYLON. 421 

the defeat at Gaugamela were like those of the defeat at 
Issus. The Persians had lost all confidence in their cause, 
and were a prey to internal disunion. The Persian general 
and the commandant of the citadel rivalled each other in 
their eagerness to do homage to the victor, and the inhabit- 
ants followed their example. Alexander was conducted into 
the city in a sort of solemn procession. Here he maintained 
the attitude for which he always showed a predilection. In 
the first place he restored the local religion. The temples, 
which he was informed had been destroyed by Xerxes on his 
return from Greece, were rebuilt at Alexander's command. 
The Chaldreans obtained from him all that they asked, though 
in so doing they sacrificed their own advantage, for the in- 
come which they had derived from the lands consecrated for 
religious uses was now restored to the maintenance of the 
temples. Alexander offered a sacrifice in the temple of Bel 
at Babel. It was of immeasurable importance that the me- 
tropolis of Baal-worship, whence one of the great religions of 
the world, as well as the culture connected with that religion, 
had gone forth to influence the West, was now again, like the 
religion and culture of Egypt, brought into connection with 
Europe by the superiority of Western arms. 

This success could, however, not be considered secure, so 
long as the great capitals, which formed the seat of empire, 
remained in hostile hands. Susa surrendered first, at the 
summons of one of Alexander's lieutenants, without any re- 
sistance. In Susa the Great King's treasure, which amounted 
to about 50,000 talents in uncoined gold and silver, fell into 
the conqueror's hands.* Alexander applied a part of the 
money, after Persian fashion, to stirring up hostility against 
the Lakedremonians, who continued to oppose him in Pelo- 
ponnesus. From Susa he made his way by the ancient royal 
road to Persepolis, not however, without some difficulty, 
partly due to the character of the country, and partly to the 

* Diodorus (xvii. G6) reckons the treasure at 40,000 talents of uncoined 
gold and silver, and 9000 gold Dairies ; Arrian (iii. 16, 7) fixes it at 50,000 
talents of silver in all ; Curtius (v. 8 = 5, 5) gives the same amount, with 
the additional remark, "Argent! non signati forma, sed rudi pondere." 



422 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

insubordination of the tribes along the route, who had never 
been thoroughly subdued by Persia. We are told, but on 
questionable authority, that he came at the invitation of a 
native commander. Darius had taken refuge in the most 
distant portion of his empire, and it almost appears as if his 
defeat were regarded as the judgment of God. Such invita- 
tions were not, however, likely to win much consideration 
from Alexander. It was in accordance with the circle of 
ideas in which he lived that he dealt harshly with a city in 
which the plunder of the whole world was gathered up, and 
in whose neighborhood he was met by prisoners of Greek 
extraction in miserable plight.* His entry into the city was 
accompanied by deeds of violence, by massacres of the inhab- 
itants, and by wholesale pillage. 

It was probably in the same spirit that he set fire to the 
citadel which he had at first intended to spare, in the orgies 
of a Dionysiac festival, as though he wished to avenge the 
Greek gods upon the Persians. The chambers of state, lined 
with cedar wood, in which the Persian monarchs used to re- 
side close by their sepulchres, disappeared in smoke and flame. 
It seemed to the spectators to consummate a decree of fate, 
when the Athenian Thais, one of the singing and dancing 
women who had been summoned to attend the feast of Diony- 
sus, bore a torch at the king's side at the head of the proces- 
sion. What the Persians had done to the Acropolis of Athens 
was now to be avenged on the royal palace of Persepolis. 
This event, in which Alexander's expedition seemed to reach 
its final aim, was closely connected with the greatest difficulty 
which he had to encounter in the whole course of his life. 
At Persepolis there were no altars of the gods to overthrow, 
nor any ruined temples to restore: there was no subject pop- 
ulation to whom their lost shrines could be given back. On 
the contrary, Alexander came into contact here with a native 
religion of immemorial antiquity and hereditary power. In 
the monuments of Persepolis this religion found its expres- 

* The number of these mutilated prisoners is reckoned by Diodorus 
(xvii. G6) and by Justin (xi. 14, 11) at 800, by Curtius (v. 17 = 5, 5) at 
4000. Arrian makes no mention of them at all. 



ALEXANDER AT PERSEPOLIS. 423 

sion. It could not be annihilated by the destruction of those 
monuments, for it had a political side as well, based upon the 
very nature of the empire. 

With this religion Alexander had now to come to terms. 
Having defeated and expelled the Great King, he was now 
regarded by those who submitted to him as his successor in 
the kingdom. The veneration, akin to worship, which had 
been felt for the kings in their character of vicegerents of 
divine authority, was now transferred to their conqueror. In 
the ideas on which this veneration rested lay the moral force 
which held together the subject -nations and gave solidity to 
the empire. Was Alexander to reject this veneration ? Had 
he done so he would have weakened the supreme authority 
he had won, and would have made the extension of it over 
the regions still unconquered impossible. If, on the other 
hand, he accepted it, as he actually did, he deserted the line 
of action which he had hitherto followed. After destroying 
every institution, religious and political, which had been es- 
tablished in consequence of the Persian dominion, he was not 
only led by personal inclination, but perhaps compelled by 
political necessities, to yield his allegiance to the ideas on 
which that dominion had been based. 

The question was, however, whether he could adopt the 
despotic system of the East, and yet remain a king after the 
Western model. Could he, in short, be at once Greek and 
Persian? In his immediate following the difference soon 
became apparent. It pleased Alexander to appear in the 
tiara and robes of the Persian kings, but neither his own 
Makedonians nor the Greeks who accompanied him were 
likely to take delight in aping Persian habits. The Make- 
donian kings, although supposed to be of heroic origin, had 
never ruled absolutel}', but always in accordance with Make- 
donian law and custom. The army which King Philip had 
collected round him preserved a sort of internal independence, 
natural to a body of professional soldiers. In the same spirit 
the Greeks had followed the youthful Alexander. They de- 
served as well at his hands as he at theirs. A verse of Eurip- 
ides was at this conjuncture often called to mind, in which 
the poet complains that the credit of a successful enterprise 



424 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

falls to the share of the leader, and not to that of the troops, 
to whom the success was due. This sentiment is directly 
opposed to the demand now put forward, that the king's ser- 
vants should approach him with signs of homage resembling 
those with which the Greeks used to approach their gods. 
The absolute power claimed by Alexander was identical with 
that against which war had been carried on for more than a 
century past. That power had been broken by defeat, but it 
seemed that it was now again to triumph, when assumed by 
the prince who had defeated it. The smouldering discontent 
caused by reflections of thjs nature soon found expression. 
In the midst of a banquet, in which the king, who drank out 
of a golden cup, had invited the chief official present to take 
part, he was honored by the Persians, after their fashion, 
with genuflexions, to which he responded with a kiss. A 
Greek who was present demanded the kiss, without, however, 
performing his part of the ceremony. The king refused the 
honor. " Well, I am poorer by a kiss," was the satirical re- 
mark of the Greek, as he sullenly retired. 

From this difference of feeling arose all those scenes which 
darkened the later years of Alexander. Even his nearest 
friends resented the idea of this Oriental servility. The nat- 
ure of the conspiracy in which Alexander's confidant, Par- 
menio, as well as his son Philotas, are said to have been in- 
volved, has never been exactly known. But that there was 
such a conspiracy cannot be denied. The Makedonians them- 
selves, who were summoned to a sort of court-martial, recog- 
nized the guilt of the conspirators, and punished it without 
hesitation. Some of the young men who attended the court 
of Alexander, as they had that of Philip, for the purpose of 
doing personal service to the king, at one time formed a plot 
to get rid of him by assassination. The night-watch which 
they themselves kept round the king gave them an opportu- 
nity of carrying their plan into execution. His life was saved 
by a Syrian woman who followed the camp. She had at first 
been driven away, but afterwards, in consequence of the su- 
pernatural influence under which she appeared to lie, had been 
received into confidence. She appealed to Alexander, with 
all the vehemence of which she was capable, to continue his 



DEATH OF DARIUS. 425 

drunken orgies beyond the time which was fixed by the con- 
spirators for his death. He was thus persuaded to remain 
away from the night- quarters where he was to have been 
murdered. 

Among these misunderstandings must be reckoned the in- 
cident which led to the death of Cleitus. His sister had been 
the king's nurse, and Cleitus had saved him on the banks of 
the Graneicus at the risk of his own life, but the manner in 
which he presumed upon this service was intolerable to the 
kins:. On one occasion he insulted Alexander at a feast with 
some spiteful remark, the exact nature of which does not tran- 
spire. Alexander sprang to his feet in a towering rage. Cle- 
itus retired ; but soon after, inflamed with wine and passion, 
again approached the king, whereupon Alexander, in a fit of 
drunken anger, stabbed him with his own hand. The deed 
was hardly done when he was seized with the bitterest re- 
morse. He shut himself up for several days, and was heard 
sobbing and accusing himself, but the horrid deed could not 
be undone. 

It is useless to attempt to justify the action of Cleitus, still 
less that of the king. The incident was a symptom of the 
opposition between Greek and Persian ideas. The leaning 
towards a royal prerogative, in accordance with Persian no- 
tions, which Alexander manifested, was strengthened by the 
submissiveness which he met with on all sides. He began 
to treat his soldier-comrades as mere subjects, while the latter 
felt themselves to be his equals. This revolution in ideas is 
strikingly brought out by the fact that Alexander now repre- 
sented himself not only as the successor of the Great King, 
but as his avenger. Darius had been murdered on his flight 
through Bactria by Bessus, the satrap of that province (July 
3, 330 b.c). Alexander marched into Bactria against Bessus, 
overpowered him, and took him prisoner. Bessus attempted 
to defend himself with the plea that he had assumed the title 
of king only to prevent others from anticipating him in his plan, 
which was to bring the people over to submit to Alexander. 
But this excuse made no impression on the latter. He 
handed over Bessus to the Medes and Persians for punish- 
ment. Through the issue of his battles and the occupation 



426 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

of Pcrsepolis Alexander believed himself to have become the 
legitimate monarch of the Persian empire. He considered 
it his duty to punish a crime perpetrated on the person of 
the Great King, although the latter had been his enemy. 

In these Persian views he persisted henceforward. To his 
Greek generals he once remarked that he would not let him- 
self be treated by them as Darius was by Bessus. In these 
difficulties we recognize a question which has been asked in 
every age, the question how the veneration which every one 
must feel towards his native sovereign is to be reconciled 
with individual freedom ? It becomes pressing when a prince, 
of hitherto limited authority, rises to the majesty of the first 
throne of the world, and his lieutenants seek to maintain, in 
their relations with him, the old position which left them a 
certain amount of independence. 

The conflict to wdiich we have alluded was as yet only be- 
gun, and Alexander was not fated to bring it to an end. But 
the later events of his life, events of a splendid and memora- 
ble kind, had an important influence on the development of 
civilization, derived from the direction which was now taken 
by the Makedonian arms. The Makedonians were led further 
by the necessity of following up the victory which they had 
won. In the battle of Gaugamela, the Arachosians, the tribes 
of Sogdiana, and the Indians had taken part. Alexander 
turned his arms first towards the north. After meeting with 
hinderances due rather to the nature of the country than to 
the resistance of the inhabitants, he reached the most distant 
regions of the Persian empire, Sogdiana and the Jaxartes. 
Alexander crossed that great river, but the inhabitants of the 
steppe, before whom the Persians had once had to retreat, 
opposed his further progress with an obstinacy which he did 
not feel himself called upon to break. While at Bactria it 
was suggested to him that he should turn his arms towards 
the west. To this proposal he turned a deaf ear, for his 
thoughts were directed towards India. 

Vague rumors about India had been conveyed to Greece 
from time immemorial, and their fabulous nature left free 
room for the imagination. India was the scene of a large 
portion of Greek mythology. It was in India that Prome- 



INVASION OF INDIA. 427 

thcus was said to have been chained to the rock. Heracles 
and Dionysus, the two heroes who won an entry to Olympus 
by the greatness of their deeds, were supposed to have reached 
India in the course of their wanderings. Alexander himself 
claimed to be descended from Heracles, and we know that, 
even while in the East, he worshipped Dionysus with tumul- 
tuous orgies. It may fairly be assumed that mythological 
impulses of this kind had their effect upon Alexander, but 
his warlike ardor was chiefly produced by a very intelligible 
ambition arising from the dominant position which he now 
occupied. 

A year before he had penetrated into the mountainous 
country of the Paropameisus (Hindoo-Koosh), which belonged 
to one of the satrapies of the Persian empire. He had at 
that time made a footing for himself on the Indian Caucasus, 
and had founded one of those cities which were intended to 
serve as strongholds for the maintenance of his power and for 
the furtherance of civilization. At a point where three roads 
to Bactria joined, he erected a fortress which he called by his 
own name. This fortress he provided with a garrison suffi- 
ciently strong to prevent any immediate communication be- 
tween India and Bactria. Meanwhile he had himself opened 
relations with India. The connection with that country be- 
gan through a prince named Sisicottus,* who undoubtedly 
ruled over part of India. This prince had belonged to the 
party of Bessus, but, after the defeat of the latter, deserted 
him and went over to Alexander. Alexander was also ap- 
proached by the Indian Prince Mophis, or Omphis, the son of 
Taxiles, who, being in difficulties with his neighbors, proposed 
to the king that the latter should recognize his claims, after 
which they were to make joint war upon their common ene- 
mies.! Thus the threads of Alexander's policy reached from 
Bactria directly to the Indus. 

When Alexander set out on his expedition to India (b.c. 
327), he appeared no longer merely as the commander of 

* The spelling of the name, which occurs elsewhere in Arrian, is not 
uniform in that author. Curtius (viii. 14=11, 25) gives it as Sisocostus. 
t In Curtius (viii. 42=12, 4) the son of Taxiles is called Omphis. 



42 S THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

Greeks and Makedonians. Besides these he had Bactrians, 
Sogdianians, and Arachosians in his army. To the different 
Eastern nations he appeared as a new Great King. How 
closely his position was in accordance with the ideas of the 
Persian empire may be seen from the fact that the new 
satrap whom Alexander set up in the district of the Paropa- 
meisus was, if we may judge from his name, a Persian. The 
first enemy attacked by the Makedonians was an opponent 
of Taxiles, with whom Sangasus, the rnler of Peukclaotis, had 
taken refuge. Their common enemy, Astes by name, was 
overpowered and slain by Hephrestion. This victory opened 
the way to the Indus. 

Meanwhile Alexander was engaged with the mountain 
tribes lying to the north of the Cophen (Cabul River). These 
races were no longer in a primitive condition. They had 
fought for their existence with Medes and Persians, they 
possessed walled cities, and could bring numerous armies into 
the field. They even introduced mercenary troops from In- 
dia. Alexander attacked them with the developed military 
science of the Greeks and Makedonians, who were still, as be- 
fore, the nucleus of his army. The enemy were never able 
to hold their ground against the phalanx, which, upon their 
approach, was in the habit of retreating for a space, then 
suddenly wheeling and attacking in close battle array. The 
art of siege was also far more developed among the Greeks 
than among the Persians. Their battering-rams broke down 
the walls, the breaches were then bridged over and the bat- 
tlements were cleared of their defenders by the catapults, 
with which the moving towers were provided. The captured 
cities were levelled with the ground : others were set on fire 
by the inhabitants and then deserted. The Makedonians 
generally pursued and caught those who tried to make their 
escape, and on one occasion they took 40,000 prisoners at 
once. 

But superiority in open war was not the only means by 
which Alexander made his way. In the town of Massaga, 
which for some time made a stout resistance, an unexpected 
event occurred. The mercenaries within the city made a 
treaty with Alexander, providing that they should enter his 



INVASION OF INDIA. 429 

service. Not long afterwards, however, it appears that they 
repented of their promise, or else that the securities they de- 
manded were not given them;* at any rate, no sooner had 
they left the city than a fight took place between them and 
the Makedonians. The superior weapons of the latter again 
secured them the victory. We are told that the arrows of 
the Thracian archers split the shields borne by the Indian 
troops, and so allowed the Makedonian pikes to produce their 
full effect. The women took part in the struggle. The 
mercenaries defended themselves with great courage, and 
were all slain. After this the city could no longer hold out, 
and fell into Alexander's hands. 

Thereupon the whole nation was seized with terror. On 
all sides they took refuge in their mountain fortresses. The 
siege of one of these, called Aornus, has become famous chiefly 
owing to the excellent description given by Arrian, who, no 
doubt, drew his information from Ptolemaeus the son of La- 
gus. The conquest of this town would have been impossible 
had not some natives betrayed to the king a path which led 
to the fortified heights. The well-planned and successful at- 
tacks upon these fortifications soon convinced the besieged of 
their inability to hold out. They begged to be allowed a free 
retreat, but Alexander preferred to give them an opportunity 
of making their escape. When they attempted this, the king's 
troops succeeded in climbing to the summit of the ridge sur- 
rounding the town, whence they were able to attack and 
massacre the flying population. If Alexander treated with 
magnanimity the nations and princes who submitted to him, 
he exercised the most ruthless severity against all who made 
any resistance. The capture of Aornus was of incalculable 
advantage, since it commanded the valley of the Cophen and 
the Upper Indus. The fortifications of the place were re- 
paired and enlarged, and the command of it was intrusted to 
the Indian prince who had made an alliance with Alexander 
in Bactria. 



* The first explanation is that of Arrian, the second that of Diodorus 
(xvii. 84), in whose narrative sympathy with the conquered is very ap- 
parent. 



430 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

Hephsestion had already preceded the king on the road to 
India. By means of a bridge of boat?, which the former had 
thrown over the Indus, probably to the north of the spot where 
it is joined by the Cophen, Alexander crossed the stream. 
In this district he enjoyed his first experience of elephant- 
hunting. Mophis, who, later on, appears under the name of 
Taxiles, acknowledged him as his suzerain.* The story tells 
us of Indian fanatics who inflicted penance on themselves, 
and of women burned on their husbands' funeral pyres: it 
brings us, in fact, into the heart of India. For a moment 
it appeared doubtful whether Taxiles and his people would 
oppose Alexander, but they kept their word and joined his 
army. Alexander enlarged the dominions of that prince, but 
at the same time placed a garrison in his capital and ap- 
pointed a Greek named Philip as satrap over the country. 

Thus the plan which had been conceived at Bactria was 
thoroughly carried out. After a hard struggle with the 
mountain tribes, there followed the subjection of an Indian 
kingdom, and the junction of its forces with the Makedonians. 
It was Alexander's intention to compel the neighboring 
Indian principalities, both small and great, to submit in like 
manner. A champion of their independence appeared in 
Forus, whose territory bordered on the districts already con- 
quered. Of Forus we find traces in Indian tradition, which 
speaks of a kingdom called Faura, in this neighborhood. 
Forus rejected every invitation to recognize Alexander as his 
suzerain. In order to conquer him, the Hydaspes (Jhelnm) 
had to be crossed. Forus brought more than a hundred ele- 
phants into the field. In his line of battle, these colossal ani- 
mals appeared like so many towers, and the troops between 
them like a connecting wall. Alexander managed to distract 
his attention and then to defeat him by a feint (July, 326 B.O.). 
Leaving a portion of his army under Craterns in the camp, 
he succeeded in crossing the river with the rest by means of 

* In Curtius (viii. 43=12, 14) Taxiles appeal's to be the regular title 
of the occupier of the throne : " Omphis pcrmittente Alexandra et regium 
iusigue sumpsit ct more gentis sua' nomen, quod patris fuerat, Taxiles 
appellavere popularcs, scquente nomine impcrium in quemeunque trau- 
siret." 



DEFEAT OF FORUS. 431 

a couple of islands which facilitated the passage. This done, 
Craterus also crossed, and Poms, after an obstinate struggle, 
was overpowered. In this battle the mounted archers proved 
themselves most efficient against the troops of Poms, but 
what was really new, and at the same time important, as de- 
termining the relations between the forces of the great powers 
of the world, was the conflict between the phalanx and the 
elephants. The former could not win the victory until the 
latter, driven into a narrow space, became terrified and threw 
their riders. Porus distinguished himself by personal brav- 
ery. "When at length he Avas brought before Alexander, his 
tall, handsome, and manly figure called forth universal ad- 
miration. He appealed to Alexander, as he was a king him- 
self, to treat him as a king. Alexander enlarged his domin- 
ions, and made alliance with him — that is to say, Porus rec- 
ognized Alexander as suzerain. At the points where the Hy- 
daspes was crossed two cities named Bukephalia and Niknea 
were built. The king himself marched along the Hydaspes 
for some distance up the stream, in order to hinder the chief- 
tains of the tribes who dwelt on the spurs of the Himalayas 
from active interference. 

A great object had now been attained. The dominion of 
the Great King in India, which Alexander had taken over 
from the Persians, had not only been revived, but extended 
beyond its former limits. But the ambition of Alexander 
was not satisfied with this, nor, we may say, was his mission 
in the history of the world fulfilled. Before him lay the 
East, hitherto hardly touched by Persia. Of its vast extent, 
and its endless variety, no one, as yet, had any clear idea. 
Alexander appeared, by the course and direction of his march, 
to be destined to explore it. He had resolved to cross the 
Hyphasis (Sutlej), the fourth of the five streams which trav- 
erse the Punjab. He was told that on the other side of the 
river he would find nations of more advanced civilization, and 
at the same time very warlike.* He was eager to visit these 
nations and plunge into a new conflict. 

* It was the kingdom of the Prasii, of which Alexander heard. Its 
king appears in the Indian tradition under the name Xanda (in Justin, 



432 THE MAKEDOXIAX EMPIRE. 

But not even the greatest commander is omnipotent; even 
such a one as Alexander is dependent on the good-will of the 
troops he leads. He now found himself in opposition to his 
army, which, disgusted by the nature of the climate which 
had lately been experienced, was appalled at the idea of press- 
ing on still farther into an unknown world. Alexander, in 
consequence of this, determined to give up his intention. 
Such, at least, is the story, which, on the whole, cannot be 
doubted. But, if we review the condition of the world at this 
time, we shall see that Alexander, though he crossed the 
frontier of India, was not called upon to traverse that coun- 
try, and to discover the eastern half of the continent which, 
for long ages to come, was not drawn into the circle of uni- 
versal history. "While giving up this project, he embraced 
another which lay nearer to his hand, a project which, while 
closely connected with the past, led directly to the develop- 
ment of the future. His aim was to establish a maritime 
connection between the valley of the Indus and the western 
world. Darius Ilystaspis had long before cherished the same 
intention. Herodotus tells us that, wishing to discover the 
mouth of the Indus, he sent a squadron, under command of 
a Greek named Scylax, down the stream from Caryanda. 
These vessels completed their voyage down the Indus, and 
thence made their way to the Eed Sea. The voyage had at 
the time no further results, but rumors of it, preserved by 
Ctesias, according to whom the Indus flows into the great sea 
which surrounds the Eastern world, made a deep impression 
on the Greeks, especially because it seemed to confirm their 
ideas about the earth. The zeal for geographical discovery. 
by which Alexander was animated beyond any of his contem- 
poraries, was tired by the prospect. It was a great concep- 
tion, equally important from the political and scientific points 
of view, to bring his new conquests in India into maritime 
connection with the principal cities of the empire which had 
fallen into his hands. 

Alexander set about this undertaking in full consciousness 

xv. 4. G, it is spelled Nandra). See Lnssen, " Indische Alterthuiiiskimde," 
ii. 200. 



VOYAGE DOWN THE INDUS. 433 

of the aim which he had in view, and with indefatigable en- 
ergy and caution. "While sailing down the Indus he was 
obliged to subdue the independent peoples on either bank so 
far as to prevent them from imperilling the existence of the 
settlements and fortresses which he erected. On these occa- 
sions he more than once encountered serious personal danger. 
Nothing in ancient history was more famous than his attack 
on the principal stronghold of the Malli. On this occasion he 
led the storming party in person, and, when a ladder gave 
way behind him. sprang down into the city, and, with his back 
against a tree, withstood all the attacks of the inhabitants, 
until relieved by his followers. This time, however, he Mas 
so severely wounded that the progress of his expedition was 
stopped for some months. 

The national resistance which he met with in India was 
heightened by religious animosity. The Brahmins everywhere 
stirred up the native population and their princes against the 
Greeks and Makedonians. It was inevitable that the religious 
views of India, and their ancestral traditions, as represented 
by the priestly caste, should call forth the bitterest hostility 
against the Greek religion, now forcing its way into their 
domain. It was almost a religious war which Alexander had 
to fight. He attacked the Brahmins in their own cities, one 
of which he entirely destroyed. "When he reached Pattala, 
where he hoped to find a favorable reception, the place itself 
and the surrounding district were deserted by the inhabitants, 
and it was only with great difficulty that he induced a suffi- 
cient number of them to return. This town was situated in 
the region where the delta of the Indus begins. Alexander 
felt himself so sure of holding the positions which he had oc- 
cupied at the most important points, that he undertook to 
complete them by erecting a town on this spot. At his com- 
mand wells were dug, and dockyards laid out, in order 
to establish an emporium for the trade of the world, which 
was to bear the name of Alexandria. All these operations he 
conducted in person. Xeither toil nor danger hindered him 
from exploring, first the western, and then the eastern arm of 
the Indus in order to convince himself that a passage to the 
sea was feasible. The spirit of enterprise with which he was 

28 



434 THE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

animated was always combined with method and thorough- 
ness. 

At last the desire of his heart was attained. At first from 
an island in the stream, and afterwards from one outside its 
mouth, he beheld with his own eyes the Indian Ocean. He 
sacrificed to the gods not only after the Grecian fashion, but 
also in accordance with the rites which he had learned in the 
temple of Anion. He threw into the sea the golden goblets 
which he had used for libations, as a sort of offering, and 
called upon Poseidon to guide in safety the fleet which he 
intended to send thence to the Persian Gulf. He had with 
him an old friend, of Cretan extraction, named Nearchus, 
who had remained faithful to him through all his earlier 
troubles, and had attended him on his march through Asia, 
first of all at the head of a body of Greek mercenaries, and 
afterwards as commander of a division of select troops. To 
this well-tried and skilful comrade he intrusted the command 
of the fleet destined to explore the way by sea to the Persian 
Gulf, and to investigate the conditions under which the route 
could be utilized. The mouths of the Indus were to be perma- 
nently connected with those of the Euphrates. Between the 
Euphrates and the Nile commercial intercourse had long 
existed. We have seen how Alexander created an emporium 
for Mediterranean trade at the mouth of the Egyptian stream. 
Alexandria on the Indus and Alexandria on the Nile were 
thus to be intimately connected with each other. The one 
opened the Mediterranean and the "West, the other was to form 
a great centre of trade for the Oriental world. These vast 
and yet practicable combinations far exceeded the efforts at 
colonization made by the Pho?nicians in both directions, and 
were the chief links in the chain which bound together the 
new world-empire of Alexander. 

Alexander's enterprise in India was completed by his 
retreat through Gedrosia. It was not merely a retreat, for it 
involved an occupation of the coasts, which was as important 
for the fleet as the security of the settlements on the banks 
of the Indus. Alexander, on his march, kept as near as pos- 
sible to the shore, and took measures for the reception and 
support of the fleet, which had been instructed to sail along 



RETREAT OF ALEXANDER. 435 

the coast. On his march he encountered great difficulties. 
The heat of the sun, the depth of the sand, the attacks of the 
half-savage inhabitants, lastly, the ignorance of his guides, were 
hinderances hardly to be surmounted. Sometimes the road led 
through deserts devoid of water and vegetation of every kind.* 
On one of these occasions it is said that Alexander, when his 
army was suffering from thirst, had some water brought him 
in a helmet. He poured it out upon the ground, for he was 
determined to share everything with his followers. A very 
similar action is related of King David : it betokens a renun- 
ciation of all advantages which belong to the king and general 
as such. The badness of the climate and the want of provi- 
sions brought sickness in their train, and caused the loss of 
many lives. The army was reduced to little more than half 
its original numbers when it arrived in Caramania. Here 
the land was more productive, and, at the same time, cam- 
els laden with the necessaries of life came in from all sides. 
Abundant reinforcements were brought up by Craterus, who, 
with his Indian elephants, had returned by way of Arachosia. 
The king was, however, very anxious about the fate of his 
fleet. JNearchus, who began his voyage early in October, 325 
b.c, was much aided by the monsoons. "We may remark in 
passing that it is to him that nautical science owes its first ac- 
quaintance with these winds. But, on the other hand, he had 
many difficulties to contend with. lie was obliged to put into 
port on the island of Bibacta, and to remain there some weeks, 
having meanwhile to fortify his camp against the attacks of 
the inhabitants. The harbor where he lay he called by the 
name of his king.f The privations which had to be endured 
at sea were no less severe than those which the troops suffered 
on shore. But all difficulties were eventually overcome, and 
the fleet arrived in Caramania, at the mouth of the river 
Aramis. The ships were beached, and the camp fortified 
with a wall. The spot was only about five days' journey dis- 



* The sketch in Strabo (xv. §4, pp. 721 sq.), and the narrative of Arrian, 
■which are not taken altogether from the same sources, are both deserving 
of notice. 

t It is now called Chilney. 



436 TIIE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

taut from where Alexander lay. Meanwhile the king had 
received so little news of his licet that he almost gave it up 
for lost. We can understand how grievous would have been 
his disappointment had the chief result of his great expedi- 
tion, the knowledge of the connection between the Persian 
Gulf and the Indian Ocean, been lost with his fleet. This is 
what is implied by his exclamation that the loss of the tleet 
would outweigh all the good-fortune he had hitherto enjoyed. 
When he saw Nearchus, who came to him immediately upon 
his landing, he burst into tears of joy ; and his tears only 
flowed the faster when he heard that not only the admiral 
but also the ileet was safe in port. The success of the great 
undertaking, which became an accomplished fact when Alex- 
ander and his admiral met, was celebrated with games in the 
Hellenic fashion, at which the king and Nearchus appeared 
together, both with garlands on their heads. 

From Caramania Alexander travelled to Susa, thence to 
Ecbatana, \ast\y to Babylon. The stories of further schemes 
which he is said to have announced in Babylon must be for 
the most part hypothetical, or at any rate appear to spring 
from a mixture of truth and fiction. We are told that his 
first intention was to prevent the Arabs from harassing his 
frontier, by a great attack upon them by land and sea. Ac- 
cording to the communications which, at a later date, were 
made to the army, he cherished the idea of making a serious 
attack upon Carthage. For this purpose, we are told that he 
intended to make a military road from Ivyrene through Libya, 
and to equip a thousand triremes in Phoenicia, Syria, Cilicia, 
and Cyprus. The Persian kings had once conceived a similar 
plan, but had relinquished it. Greek and Persian ideas were 
combined in Alexander. The conquest of Carthage would 
have made him master of the Western world. 

It is quite possible that far-reaching plans of this kind 
floated in the minds of Alexander and his generals, but that 
anything of the sort had been determined on cannot be proved. 
A true conception of Alexander's character will permit, if not 
compel, the historian to doubt whether such was the case. 
The enterprises of Alexander, so far as they had been com- 
pleted at this moment, are harmonious and complete in them- 



ALEXANDER'S CONQUESTS. 437 

selves. We need not stop to inquire whether the idea of a 
revolution in the East floated from the first before his eyes, 
but it is perfectly clear that the force of circumstances led 
him step by step to that result. Beginning with the expedi- 
tions against the nations of the Danube, which were under- 
taken because otherwise the power gained by his father over 
Greece could not have been maintained, he proceeded to 
make war upon the states of Hellas which were hostile to 
that power, and overcame them. The fact that the latter 
found support in the Persian dominion over Asia Minor led 
Alexander to make an attack upon the Persians, the fortunate 
issue of which exceeded all expectations. But the hostile 
powers still kept command of the sea. Alexander could not 
become supreme over that element until he had conquered 
Egypt, and, above all, Phoenicia. This was, however, impos- 
sible until the power of the Great King, who ruled over those 
lands, was defeated in a decisive battle. Such a defeat was 
inflicted at Issus. That battle gave Alexander dominion over 
the eastern waters of the Mediterranean and over the lands 
which had seen the dawn of civilization. Thence he directed 
his gaze, of necessity, to Babylon, the religious connection of 
which with the districts which he had occupied was of ancient 
date. But Babylon could not be conquered so long as the 
territories which were the birthplace of the Assyrian and 
Medo-Persian empires remained in the hands of the Persians. 
The greatest of all its triumphs was won by the Grosco-Make- 
donian army in the plain of Gaugamela. The nations of which 
the great empire was composed, and which then met him in 
the field, were conquered at one blow. The result was that 
not only Babylon fell, but with it the Persian empire. The 
extent of that empire compelled Alexander to press forward 
to Bactria and the Jaxartes on the one side, and on the other 
to the banks of the Indus. 

It was an incomparable career of victory which fell to the 
lot of Alexander. In his early youth he took a decisive share 
in the battle of Chseroneia, after which, as commander-in- 
chief, he won the battles on the Graneicus, at Issus, at Gau- 
gamela, and, lastly, on the Ilydaspes: five battles, each of 
which marks a revolution in the circumstances of the world. 



188 



TMK MAKKDHNIAN KMl'IHK. 



Alon;-; with these victories must he reckoned the captures <>l 

buoIi (owns as Thebes, Elalioarnassus, Tyre^ and Gala; and 

in India, of the mountain Portress Aonms, and d( the capital 
of the .Main, ah those were military triumphs »'i 1 1 u^ very 

first rank, and followed each other in one Uninterrupted B6 

Qiionoe "i suooosB. 
The share taken by Alexander in the progress of geography 

QOnsistS mainly in this: thai In- redisco\ ered the maritime 

route from the months of the Euphrates to the mouths o( the 

Indus, and Ilia! ho not only rediscovered it, hut. put it. to 
actual use. 'This exploit, united all the conquered territories 
into one whole. Within the circle of these conquests we 
ma v perhaps say that his greatest leal consisted in reestablish- 
ing over an immense ares the supremacy of polytheism) which 
had been muoh reduced by the Persian dominion. It was ow 

in;- l<> him that the Greek, Egyptian, and Syrian religions he 
came fused in one another. Towards the Jews he showed 
tolemtionj for in their religion ho beheld a national instilu 

lion, lie overthrew the Persians, ye! without suppressing 
their religious opinions. Against the Brahmins he oliarapiofied 

the cause of tin" Grecian gods. 

Bui something he brought with him from Greooo greater 
than its gods. The Greeks had arrived at an idealistic con- 
ception oi the world, BO far as such :» conception is attainable 

by the human mind. They had created a literature which 
ombraoed all tendencies o( thought the earliest and the most 
brilliant ^( the literatures o( the world. To the ideas which 
animated this literature Alexander threw open the Mast, ami 
even subjooted it to their domination. To the Influence of 

thought he added the inlluenee of force. His victories are 

not merely events in military history, but also .steps In the 

onward course of human civili. .at ion, especially in relation 1»> 

art and commerce. For these he everywhere founded new 

homes, which he delighted to mark hv his own 11:11111'. The 
mixture o( polytheism with the greatest elVorts oi culture is 

the distinctive mark of the opooh. The religion o( humanity, 

which in later times became prominent, has always adhered 

firmly io its connection with the ideas of Boienoe and oiviliia< 

(ion. 



CHABACTEB OT ALEXANDER. |:;:» 

In Alexander, as he it described to as, there is somewhat 
of the ideal which the Greeks incorporated in their Dionysus, 
the god wliu, born of lightning and the earth Tor that is 
what the story of Bemele means— traverses the world noto- 
rious and irresistible; the god who, in the midst of all his 
victories, wears a wreath of vine leaves, or carries agoblet to 
gether with his sceptre. Alexander, like him, delighted in 
the enjoyments of life. He was riotous at the banquet, full 
of confidence and affection to those about him, and generous 
even to lavishness. But woe to the man who irritated liim, 
for in his wrath he lost all self-command, though afterwards 
he gave bimself up to the bitterest feelings to which man can 
be ;i pre)', the remorse for an evil deed which can never he 
undone. He was thoroughly human, and was easily influ- 
enced by the most opposite impulses. He did not shun the 
company of Thais, but could honor Sisygambis. He thrust 

Darius IV the ihrone, hut afterwards avenged his death. 

Wii.h all his defects, he always manifested an innate feeling, 
a sort of instinct, for the magnificent and truly great. Ili« 
persona] appearance showed a, rare combination oi muscular 
strength and agility. In his eyes men thought they recog 

ui/.eil the expression, not only of <n-nfleiiess and sensitiveness, 

hut of lion like courage. The portraits which the ancients 

possessed Of him an- characteristic.: the hair fell hack from a 
high and open brow, and his head had a slight inclination to 
the, left side. The hust in the Louvre with a (J reek inSClip 
lion, which has heen ascrihed to ;iu Athenian studio, is proha- 
bly a Copy from an original made in Alexander's lifetime. It 

breathes resolution and independence, combined with refine- 
ment and tenderness. The BpeotatOr Can hardly tear himself 
away from it when he I hinks of the deeds and qualities of the 
man whom if represents. 

After Alexander's return from India his principal employ- 
ment was in controlling the violence of his lieutenants, to 

whom he had intrusted his authority. In the position which 
hu now occupied he Was Unable to dispense with the Persians, 
in who: e footsteps he trod. Wo arc fold that lie caused a 

large cumber of the Persian youth to ho drilled after Greels 

fashion in the US6 of arms. The nuniher of young men who 



440 TIIE MAKEDONIAN EMPIRE. 

were presented to him, after going through their course, was 
estimated as high as 30,000. We see signs that an attempt 
was made to unite Makedonians and Persians in minor as 
well as more important services. Alexander's marriage with 
the eldest daughter of his predecessor meant nothing else 
than that the successor of Alexander was also to be the suc- 
cessor of the Persian kings. This marriage, it was hoped, 
would lead to a fusion of the two nationalities. Alexander's 
intention is said to have been to bring colonies from Europe 
to Asia, and from Asia to Europe. The two continents were 
to be united as closely as possible by mutual communication. 
The arts and architecture of the different countries were also 
to be fused. It is characteristic of Alexander that he thought 
of erecting a pyramid in honor of his father as large as the 
largest of those in Egypt. 

While full of these revolutionary ideas he was robbed by 
death of his best friend and counsellor, Hephajstion, whom 
he used to call his second self. From this time forth he lost 
all his gayety. He obtained permission from the oracle of 
Amoii to honor his friend as a demi-god, whereupon he 
caused his body to be burned and entombed in Babylon with 
the most splendid ceremonies. It is not clear whether the 
conversations which he held in his latter days turned chielly 
upon recollections of his past experiences or upon plans for 
the future. But the rapid and almost miraculous develop- 
ment of his life was fittingly closed by a rapid and early 
death.* Alexander died in the first half of the month of 
June, in the year 323. He was only thirty-two years old. 
In the family from which he sprang early deaths -were not 
uncommon, and no one need wonder that Alexander, ex- 

* In the Ephemerides (Plutarch, " Alexander," chaps. 76 sq.)tho L'Sth 
of the Makedonian month Daisies was given as the day of Alexander's 
death. Aristobulus gives the 30th ; but it is difficult to reckon dates by 
the Makedonian months. If we follow Plutarch in identifying the month 
of Daisios with the Attic month Thargelion (" Alexander," chap. 16 ; 
"Oamillus," chap. 19), the first of the above statements fixes the day as 
the 8th, the second as the 10th of June. The reckoning hitherto followed, 
fixing it on the 11th or 13th of June, rests on a different construction of 
the Attic calendar. 



DEATH OF ALEXANDER. 441 

liaustcd by all the exertions and all the enjoyments which 
life presents, succumbed early to the common fate of man. 

It has often been suggested that he died by poison, in 
consequence of the anxiety produced in his own country by 
the Oriental tendencies which he displayed. About this noth- 
ing further can be known than that such an opposition exist- 
ed between the intentions of Alexander, which tended towards 
a monarch}- of the Persian kind, and the independent feelings 
of the Greeks and Makedonians, who had won the victory 
over that monarchy. Alexander may be styled fortunate in 
that his death saved him from the painful complications which 
could not fail to spring from this internal opposition. 



Chapter XL 

ORIGIN OF THE GI^ECO-MAKEDONIAN KINGDOMS. 

Alexander had destroyed an empire, but had not succeed- 
ed in erecting a new one in its place. The fundamental no- 
tions which are indispensable to a regular administration were 
in the Makedonian empire vague and uncertain. It was true 
that the new ruler was obeyed as the successor of the ancient 
kings in the satrapies into which the empire of the Achseme- 
nidsa was divided. But the Grseco-Makedonian army, which 
had won the victory, was not inclined to put up with such a 
transformation. From the differences which this disagreement 
caused immediately after the taking of Persepolis sprang the 
bitterest disappointments which Alexander had to endure. It 
would be a mistake to assume that the Makedonian army, in 
acting thus, threw off allegiance to the royal authority, as 
legally and traditionally constituted. Philotas and his fellow- 
conspirators were condemned by a court-martial, that is to 
say, by the troops themselves or by their commanders. AVc 
have already seen that the absolute power of the commander- 
in-chief was an historical necessity : great armies are created 
in order to carry out great conceptions. But the military 
constitution has also another side ; for armies cannot be mere 
instruments. The success of their arms induces the troops to 
think for themselves and to manifest a will of their own. 
Alexander often remarked to the Makedonians who followed 
him that his enterprise had originated not so much in himself 
as in his army, for it was the army which had originally de- 
manded an attack upon Persia. The soldiers had won the 
victory, and they now desired to enjoy its fruits. 

It was natural that they should have been disgusted with 
the schemes of Alexander for bringing about a combination 
of the two nationalities in the army itself, for in this proposal 



QUESTION OF THE SUCCESSION. 443 

they perceived an attempt to deprive them of the exclusive 
military power which they had won. But with the death 
of the king his schemes fell to the ground. The prince 
who had contemplated a fusion of East and West was dead, 
and the Gneco-Makedonian army felt, for the first time, its 
full independence and power. The deepest hostility was 
aroused among the troops by the combination of the Make- 
donian monarchy with the authority of the Great King. Now 
that Alexander was dead, they had ideas of their own to put 
forward about this combination. 

Alexander did not die altogether without offspring, but his 
children were not in a position to make legal claim to the 
rights of succession. After his return from India he had 
wedded the elder daughter of Darius ; the younger sister he 
married to the only friend whom he could entirely trust. The 
male offspring of the former marriage might naturally be ex- 
pected to regard themselves as, in the first place, kings of the 
Persians, and this was the more likely since Sisygambis, the 
mother of Darius, was still alive, and would have taken charge 
of her grandchildren. But after the death of Alexander Sisy- 
gambis died of grief, and her granddaughters were enticed 
from the asylum which they had found with her and put to 
death. This act has been ascribed to Boxana, the daughter 
of a Bactrian prince, whom Alexander had taken to wife ; for 
the Makedonian kings had not renounced polygamy. She is 
said to have carried out the deed of violence with the conni- 
vance of Perdiccas. At the time of Alexander's death she was 
with child. But if, as was expected, and as actually happened, 
she were to give birth to a son, the same objection could be 
made to this child, namely, that he was of Oriental origin. 
Such a successor was not at all to the taste of the Makedo- 
nians. They maintained that the half-brother of Alexander, 
Arrhidaeus, who at this time assumed his father's name of 
Philip, was Alexander's true successor. 

This produced fresh complications. It is always a hazard- 
ous task to extricate the simple fact from the legendary addi- 
tions with which history has been intentionally overlaid. The 
statement that after the king's death the chief commanders, 
and among them Perdiccas, were disinclined to take any action 



444 THE DIADOCHI. 

until the birth of Roxana's child had taken place, is not con- 
firmed by the simplest account that we have of the matter. 
According to Diodorns the chief commanders claimed for 
themselves, after the death of the king, the obedience which 
the army had hitherto shown them. But the phalanx refused 
to obey the orders of their captains until a king should be 
named. The traditions of their own country possessed domi- 
nant influence over them, and they determined to have a 
king. They demanded that Arrhidseus should be recognized 
by the generals as well as by themselves. One of the gen- 
erals consented, but at first it appeared as if the question 
would have to be decided by the sword. Arrhidseus, however, 
who was not in full possession of his wits, was not a man from 
whom the generals, who were almost without exception men 
of talent and high military reputation, would have had any- 
thing to fear. They therefore recognized Arrhidreus as king, 
but apparently with a reservation in favor of the boy to 
whom Roxana might give birth. The rank and file of the 
army consented to admit the child to a certain share in the 
government. 

It appears, then, that a sort of union of the Persian and 
Makedonian succession was in prospect. It is not worth 
while to investigate the question further, since it is one of no 
real interest. It was, however, a fact of the greatest impor- 
tance that the generals, while recognizing Arrhidseus, insisted 
on the condition that the satrapies of the empire should be 
divided among them. Perdiccas, who was in possession of 
Alexander's signet-ring, and declared that he had received it 
from the king himself, was actually regarded as his lieutenant, 
and conducted this important operation. He assumed the 
position of chiliarch, which Bagoas had once occupied, and 
which Alexander had transferred to Hephaestion, an office 
which conferred upon its holder the power of a regent. The 
chief deduction to be made from these events is that the 
Makedonian army showed itself to be the true possessor of 
power. It was understood that there was a king in whom 
supreme authority resided, but the army, under its original 
commanders, was the real ruler. It has been remarked that 
the greatest ornaments of literature have frequently appeared 



EISING IN GKEECE. 445 

simultaneously, and the same may perhaps be said of military 
talent. Men like Ptolenmeus the son of Lagus, Antigonns, 
Enmenes, Antipater, and Craterns were born to carry out 
great military operations. These men had become practically 
independent by the death of their king, but they recognized 
Arrhidauis and Perdiccas as their leaders. 

The Makedonian army had in this way freed itself from 
Persian influence. But it was equally unwilling to admit the 
Greeks to a share of power. In the inland provinces of Asia 
an outbreak of insubordination among the Greek inhabitants 
took place, but was at once put down. The insurgents were 
overwhelmed and destroyed, by command of Perdiccas, who 
took care that the general whom he despatched for the pur- 
pose should not be tempted to put himself at their head. 
This movement was accompanied by a simultaneous rising in 
Greece itself, which deserves further mention. It was directed 
against Antipater, who, in the name of Alexander, exercised 
supreme power in that country. The news of the king's 
death could not but produce a disturbing effect upon the 
Greeks. In Athens the Makedonian power was compared 
with the Cyclops whose single eye was put out, and it was 
proposed at once to take up arms against Antipater. Phokion 
was again hostile to the proposal. The answer that he gave 
to the question, when the occasion would arise for him to 
give his counsel for war, is very characteristic. " When I 
see," said he, " that the young men know how to drill, when 
the rich men pay their debts, and when public speakers no 
longer seize on the property of the nation." 

But, in spite of his opposition, the movement found wide 
support elsewhere. Mercenaries out of service, some of whom 
were rejected by Alexander, while others had been dismissed 
by Persian satraps, had collected round the Athenian Leos- 
thenes. At the head of these troops, who brought with them 
from Asia a deadly hatred of the Makedonians, Leosthencs 
raised the flag of Grecian freedom. "With the countenance of 
Demosthenes, and the connivance of the Athenians, he first 
of all led his mercenaries to yEtolia, where he received con- 
siderable reinforcements. After this he and his friends, who 
all belonged to the same party, succeeded in persuading the 



440 THE DIADOCHI. 

Athenians to resolve on war. The ideas of Hellenic indepen- 
dence and freedom, overthrown by Philip and suppressed by 
Alexander, rose again to the surface. Demosthenes, although 
an exile from Athens, joined the Athenian ambassadors of 
his own free will, and lent them the support of his eloquence. 
The Athenians were first of all joined by the ./Etolians and 
Thessalians. The Boeotians, who owed a great improvement 
in their circumstances to Alexander, refused their adhesion, 
but were forced to join the movement. Leosthenes occupied 
Thermopylae with so strong a force that Antipater retreated 
before him and shut himself up in Lamia. The reinforce- 
ments which Leonnatus was bringing him from Asia were 
beaten by the Greeks, and only a part of them succeeded in 
joining him. It is impossible not to s} r mpathize with this 
revival of the ideas of Greek independence, but the cause of 
the G reeks was again hampered by their disunion. The 
craving for political isolation was still, as of old, uppermost in 
their hearts. The ./Etolians, on whose alliance with Athens 
the whole enterprise depended, were obliged by an attack of 
the Acarnanians to return home, and the rest of the allies had 
always to guard against their own particular enemies, while 
Sparta, once the most formidable state of Greece, took no 
part in the movement. At the same time the Greek soldier 
resented the severity of the discipline on which martial law 
insisted. 

On the other hand the Makedonian commanders still held 
together, and maintained the unity of administration to which 
they had hitherto owed their success. Craterus led the invin- 
cible phalanx over to Makedonia, and the Greek levies proved 
no match for the Makedonian army. They were, moreover, 
compelled to fight at a time when many of them, from con- 
tempt of the enemy, had returned home. The Thessalian 
cavalry, who had made the Grecian army to some extent 
formidable, held aloof from the battle, or were hindered from 
taking part in it, and at Cranon the Makedonian troops under 
Antipater and Craterus won a decided victory. This defeat, 
which took place on the anniversary of ChaM'oneia (August 5, 
322 u.c), was no less important than that battle for the future 
of Greece. Far from acknowledging the leasrue which had 



DEATH OF DEMOSTHENES. 447 

been lately made by the Greeks, Antipatcr declared that he 
would only deal with them singly. They thereupon submit- 
ted, one city or state after another. Athens had to put up 
with a peace which was far more oppressive than the treaties 
which she had formerly made with Philip and with Alexander. 
The chief conditions of this peace were the acceptance of a 
Macedonian garrison and a fundamental change in the consti- 
tution, involving an enactment that the possession of a fortune 
of at least 2000 drachma3 was necessary to entitle a citizen to 
a vote in the management of public affairs. It was hoped 
that this would prevent those who had nothing to lose from 
disturbing or destroying the existing state of things. The re- 
sult of these changes was that the democracy, as hitherto con- 
stituted, was overthrown, and the political independence of 
Athens entirely destroyed. 

The catastrophe was marked by the death of the great ora- 
tor, who had always offered the most strenuous opposition to 
the influence of Makedonia. He had now to endure the bit- 
terness of being condemned to death by the newly constructed 
Demos. He fled to Calauria, and took refuge in a temple of 
Poseidon. Messengers from Antipatcr tried to persuade him 
to trust himself to the mercy of their master, but he preferred 
to put an end to himself. It is narrated that, while pretend- 
ing to write, he put the pen, in which he had concealed 
poison, into his mouth, and covered his head. When he felt 
the working of the poison he removed the veil, and called the 
gods to witness the sacrilege committed by the Makedonians, 
by whom the sanctity of the temple was violated. At the 
very foot of the altar he fell unconscious, and breathed his 
last. At the moment when the freedom of Athens perished 
forever the most eloquent mouth which had defended it was 
silenced by death :* the new world had no more place for 

* This, with other circumstances, is the upshot of Ariston's narrative, 
■which Plutarch follows in his " Life of Demosthenes " (chap. 39). In the 
" Ajj fiotjQivovc iyKuifiiov " of Lucian, this story is enlarged by a speech full 
of invectives against the Makedonians, which Demosthenes is supposed 
to have uttered, and by other imaginary additions. In the " Life of the 
Ten Orators," formerly ascribed to Plutarch, we read that the Make- 
donians tried to lay hands on Demosthenes, but were hindered by the 



I is the DIADOCBX 

Demosthenes. Four enemies of the Makedonians were torn 
awav from the altar of .Kaeus, brought before Antipater, and 

put to death. About the same time Aristotle died, lie be- 
longed to the other party J but, when banished from Athens, 
found in Chalk is, under Alakedonian protection, a harbor of 
refuge for his school. 

With all our sympathy for the freedom of Greece, we are 
still tempted, when wo consider universal conditions, to find 
BOme compensation for its destruction in the fact that the full 
influence o( Greek genius upon the world at large only began 
to be felt under the dominion of the Makedonians. 

After the suppression of the insurrection in Greece the 

generals, afterwards known as the Piadoehi, or successors of 
Alexander, fell out with one another. The supreme authority 
which Perdiccas exercised as representative oi the monarchy 
received only grudging recognition from the principal gen- 
erals. Perdiccas found himself obliged to take up arms 
against Ptolenueus the sou o( l.agus, to whose share Egypt 
had fallen, and his ally Antigonus, who ruled over Thrygia. 
Hut PtolemSBUS had taken tip 8 strong defensive position in 
Egypt, so that the expedition o( Teidiccas did not attain the 
desired results. This, in its turn, led to a revolution on the 
banks of the Nile. Perdiccas \vas haughty and domineering, 
and asked no one for advice. Ptolem&US, on the other hand, 
was good humored and yielding, and did nothing without ask- 

inhabitants of the town (p. 846). Bat Strabo assures us that the Make- 
donians were restrained by respect tor the shrine from laying hands 
upon hinuvii. c, 1 1, p. 874) ; and that, instead of listening to the invita- 
tion to leave tin- temple, Demosthenes poisoned himself. In another re- 
port, which comes from the family of Demosthenes, it was maintained 
that Demosthenes did not perish by poison, but through the special care 
ot" the gods escaped by a painless death from the danger of falling 
into tin- hands of the Makedonians. Similar versions, in which a death 
which others regarded as violent is traced to the special grace ^( the 
gods, are also to he found elsewhere. On the other hand, an author as 
ancient as Philichorus ascribed the death of Demosthenes to poison (in 
Plutarch, p. 874b ; fragment 139 in Midler. "Fragm. Hist. Gwgc" i. p. 
407). This tradition has been generally followed. Of the circumstances 
which accompanied the event those which 1 have inserted in the text 
appear to me to have tUOSt continuation. 



PERDICCAS AND ANTIPATER I 1!) 

ing the advico of his lieutenants. By this concession he met 
halfway the claims which the Makedonian generals had ac- 
customed themselves to make. When the two armies met. 
on the hanks of the Nile, the principal commanders of Per* 
dicoas went over ti> Ptoletnseus. Perdiccas was murdered in 
liis tent.* Thereupon a council of generals met, who, loyal 
as ever to the hereditary reigning family of Makedonia, in- 
trusted Antipater with the duties of government. 

At this point our attention is forcibly drawn to the fact 
that it was in itself an Impossible task to keep together under 
any form of government the empire which Alexander had 
appeared to leave behind him. I say appeared, because his 
different conquests had not been compacted into anything 
like a, state. In the provinces, which had once formed sepa- 
rate kingdoms, the. idea of reviving these kingdoms naturally 
cropped up. But, further, the Makedonian commanders had 
no intention of maintaining the combination of the (Jrcck 
element with the Makedonian. It is intelligible that the 
commanders of Greek extraction regarded with favor a su- 
preme authority like that of Perdiccas, for snch a comman- 
der-in-chief gave them some support against the preten- 
sions of the inferior Makedonian officers. The latter showed 
their feelings by raising Antipater to the position of a grand 
vizier. This they did of their own authority, although it 
was impossible to appeal to any indication in Antipater's 
favor on the part of Alexander, and they did it. at the very 
timc when he had just put down an insurrection in (i recce. 
At the same time they condemned to death Eumenes, the 
only Greek among them, on the charge of having been a par- 
tisan of Perdiccas. 

Eumenes of Cardia had been tho private secretary of King 
Philip during his later years, and had been continually em- 
ployed by Alexander, to whom he had attached himself, in 
business of tho first importance, lie had had the credit of 
bringing about the compromise which was made after tho 



♦Clinton ("Fasti Hell." il, Kit) fixes the death of Perdiccas in the 
Bpring of 821 B.C. (01. 114, 3), so that he exercised supreme authority only 
two .years, not three, according to Diodorus (xviii. 30). 

29 



450 TIIE DIADOCHI. 

king's death between the rank and file of the Makedonian 
army and the principal commanders. For this service he 
had been rewarded with the satrapy of Cappadocia, which, 
however, he had first of all to reduce to complete subjection. 
He would probably have been able to maintain his position 
had he held iirmlv to the arrangement which he himself had 
brought about, but his adherence to Perdiccas was regarded 
as a crime worthy of death. Antipater felt himself impelled 
to intrust Antigonus, the most important of the generals who 
had allied themselves with Ptolemseus, with a general com- 
mission for the destruction of Eumenes. The latter found 
unexpected support in the complications produced by the death 
of Antipater, which took place just at this time (319 B.C.). 
Antipater bequeathed the supreme authority, which the army 
had placed in his hands, to Polysperchon, a member of a com- 
paratively unimportant family in Epeirus. Polysperchon at- 
tempted to acquire greater consideration by summoning back 
to Makedonia the queen dowager, Olympias, who had taken 
refuge in Epeirus. This step was a great deviation from the 
policy -which had hitherto been followed, for Olympias had 
been hostile to Antipater; but its chief importance for the col- 
lective empire, if we may use the phrase, was that it brought 
into existence a new embodiment of the supreme power. 
Olympias, Polysperchon, and Eumenes were naturally allied 
together. They represented a supreme authority, closely con- 
nected with the monarchy, and independent alike of the pro- 
vincial authorities and the military commanders. The mili- 
tary and political power of the Makedonian generals inevita- 
bly came into collision with each several member of this alli- 
ance. 

The combination was first of all disastrous for Eumenes. 
The chief soldiers of the phalanx, who were distinguished by 
silver-plated shields, whence their name of Argyraspides, had 
hitherto held firmly to him, and refused to recognize the sen- 
tence uttered on the banks of the Nile. Put a defeat expe- 
rienced by Eumenes, which threatened to tarnish the lustre 
of their reputation, impelled them to deliver up their general 
to Antigonus. Eumenes was shortly afterwards put to death 
(816-15 b.c). He was the only Greek in the Makedonian 



EXTINCTION OT THE BOYA1 FAMILY. 1 5 J 

military hierarchy. The Grecian element, which had had bo 
large a share in the conquests of Alexander, was excluded by 
the commanders of Blakedonian origin. 

Against Polysperchon and Olyrapias the independent ten- 
dencies of the Makedonian officers found an ally like-minded 
with themselves in Oassander, the son of Antipater, who 
could not bear the loss of the authority which had belonged 
to his father. Antigonus supplied him with a considerable 
fleet and army. Thus equipped, he appeared before Alliens, 
which was unable to make any resistance. The Mal.edo- 
nians, enraged at the tyranny of Olympias, to whom they as- 
cribed the death of ArrhidsBus,* which occurred about this 
time, took the side of (Jassandor. The supporters of Poly- 
Sperchon were everywhere annihilated. At last Olympias 

herself, after standing a long siege in Pydna, fell into the 
hands of her enemies. She was treated with horrible cruelty, 

being stoned to death by tlje relatives of the Makedonians 

whom she had executed (spring of 815 b.o.). But it was not 
oidy on account of her crimes and deeds of violence that she 

died : in her the race of the Makedoniau kings Came to an 
end. Hers was a tragic fate, for by furthering the enter- 
prj es of her son she created circumstances which led to her 
own destruction. 

In the first movements of the Makedonians on behalf of 
their hereditary royal family the two sons of Alexander the 
Great were murdered one after another. The one, Alexan- 
der JSgus, whose mother was Boxana, was the boy for whom 
the monarchy was at one time destined ; the other, named 
Heracles, was also of Peri ian descent, being the son of a 

(laughter of Artabazus, Memnon's widow. A like Eate befell 
Cleopatra, the widowed sister of Alexander, the last repre- 
sentative of the royal house. The chief generals had been 
rivals for her hand, because the Makedonians clung to their 
veneration for the hereditary royal family. So far as can be 
made out she inclined to PtolemfiBUS the son of Lagus, who 
ruled in Egypt, but she thereby aroused the hatred of An- 

+ According to Diodorue (\\\. LI) Arrhidera* was king for Bit years 
and four months: bis death therefore occurred in the autumn of :)I7 b.c. 



452 THE DIADOCHI. 

tigonus, who compassed her murder — so at least was said — 
by means of her female slaves. 

In her perished the last of those who could base a claim to 
the throne on the ground of descent. The only question now 
was whether any of the chief generals could maintain a su- 
premacy over the rest. This claim was put forward by An- 
tigonus, whom Antipater had named Strategus of x\sia against 
Eumenes. The rest, however, refused to acknowledge him 
as supreme, and war was therefore inevitable. Ptolemreus 
the son of Lagus, the ruler of Egypt, was most decided in re- 
jecting such a supremacy. In order to maintain his father's 
claim, Demetrius Poliorketes, the son of Antigonus, brought 
a numerous army, provided with Indian elephants, into the 
Held. In the year 312 b.o. a decisive battle took place at 
Gaza, in which Demetrius met with a repulse. This battle 
established the independence of Egypt. 

At the same time a general change of ideas began to show 
itself. Demetrius and Ptolemeens rivalled each other in their 
lust for fame and territory, but this very rivalry involved 
some sort of mutual recognition. The conflict appeared to 
them a kind of civil war, but the prizes to be gained in this 
war were vast provinces which aimed at becoming, and might 
become, kingdoms in themselves. Cassander took up a po- 
sition similar to that of Ptolenncus, and championed similar 
interests. Demetrius, defeated by land, but still maintaining 
his supremacy at sea, now set sail for Greece. Here lie got 
the better of Cassander, in spite of the assistance from Egypt 
which the latter enjoyed. He next turned his forces against 
the fleet of Ptolenncus, which lay off Cyprus. A battle took 
place, not less important than that of Gaza, but with a differ- 
ent issue. Ptolemams had one hundred and fifty ships, which 
in case of need could be strengthened by sixty more from Sa- 
lamis. Against this auxiliary squadron Demetrius despatched 
only ten ships, but his line of battle was stronger by thirty ships 
than that of the enemy.* This superiority of force enabled him 
to inflict a severe defeat upon Ptolemicus. The latter escaped 

* Plutarch, " Demetrius," chap. 10. Slightly different numbers are 
given by Diodorus (xx. 47,49). 



DEMETRIUS AND ANTIGONUS. 453 

with difficulty, accompanied only by eight ships, while seven- 
ty fell into the hands of Demetrius (spring of 30G B.C.). 

The victorious general won much credit for moderation and 
generosity. He provided his fallen enemies with a splendid 
funeral, and presented the Athenians witli twelve hundred 
complete suits of armor; for he consistently aimed at rendering 
himself famous for magnanimity. But the battle had very un- 
expected results. Immediately after the event Demetrius in- 
trusted one Aristodemus, a confidential friend of his family, 
who had already been active in furthering their interests in 
Greece, with the duty of bringing the news to his father, who 
at the time was living at Antigoneia. Before any one had 
heard of the victory Aristodemus stopped his ship at some 
distance from the land, and went ashore in a small boat by 
himself. He refused to answer any questions till he reached 
the palace. Antigonus, extremely eager to hear the news, 
came out to meet him at his door, while the people stood in 
crowds around. Then Aristodemus with a loud voice ex- 
claimed, " O King Antigonus, we have won the victory ; 
Cyprus is ours." This address may be said to have inaugu- 
rated a new era. The title of king, uttered by Aristodemus, 
was taken up by the people with a shout of " Long live King 
Antigonus !" and was accepted by Antigonus himself, who at 
the same time conferred the title on his son. 

Antigonus was a man of imposing appearance and rugged 
exterior, fond of joking with his soldiers, but to others hard 
of access and domineering. He was careful to husband his 
resources, and, through frequent success, had conceived a 
high notion of his power. It may fairly be assumed that he 
intended to revive the Macedonian monarchy, and to insist 
on universal submission to his word. He had already made 
attempts in this direction, for the war which he was carrying 
on had originated in his claim for supremacy. Now that ho 
had won a great victory he had no hesitation in assuming a 
title which raised him above all competitors. While claim- 
ing full independence for himself, he refused to recognize a 
similar claim on the part of his opponents, Ptolemsens and 
Cassander. It was not, however, likely that the latter would 
give way. They too resolved, one after another, to assume 



451 THE DIADOCHI. 

the royal title. This was done in direct opposition to Antig- 
onus, who thought to strengthen his claim for supremacy by 
taking the name of king. The assumption of the same title 
by others implied that they were his equals, as absolute as he 
was and independent of his authority. Although Ptolemfeus 
had lost Cyprus, he was, nevertheless, proclaimed king in 
Egypt. The possession of the mortal remains of Alexander 
the Great, which had been handed over to his keeping by 
those who had the care of the funeral equipage, seems to have 
procured him a sort of mysterious reputation in that country. 
An attempt on the part of Antigonus to attack Ptolemreus 
in Egypt failed rather through unfavorable weather and the 
difficulties of the climate than from military causes. On the 
other hand, Demetrius, who, after his victory at Cyprus, sailed 
to Rhodes, encountered the most strenuous opposition in that 
island, and was at last compelled to recognize its neutrality. 

The resistance which Rhodes and Egypt offered to Deme- 
trius is closely connected with the appearance of other inde- 
pendent states in the midst of this universal warfare and 
confusion. The most important of these powers was that of 
Seleucus, who ruled in Babylon and in Upper Asia. Seleucus 
was one of the younger companions of Alexander, who had 
won his reputation mainly in the Indian campaigns. On ac- 
count of the share he had taken in the overthrow of Per- 
diccas he was raised by the Makedonians of Antipater's party 
to the satrapy of Babylon. In the conflict with Eumenes he 
took the side of Antigonus, but on the conclusion of that 
struggle there ensued between him and Antigonus a feud 
which in its origin is indicative of the general state of affairs. 
Antigonus, by virtue of his royal power, attempted to control 
the satrap of Babylon, and demanded an account of the reve- 
nues of his satrapy. This was refused by Seleucus, on the 
ground that he, too, had been named satrap by the Makedo- 
nians, and was, therefore, independent of Antigonus. At first 
Antigonus was too strong for his opponent. Seleucus, un- 
able to hold his ground, took to flight with a body of faith- 
ful followers, and found refuge with Ptolemreus, who had the 
reputation of giving read} 7 help to his friends in need. 

Seleucus took a prominent part in the earlier conflicts be- 



SANDROCOTTUS. 455 

tween Antigonus and Ptolemreus, and especially in the battle 
of Gaza, which secured the independence of Egypt. In con- 
sequence of this battle Selcucus was enabled to return to 
Babylon. That Antigonus had never made good his footing 
in that city is shown by the attitude of the Chakhvans, who 
informed him that he must secure the person of Selcucus if 
he was to escape destruction at his hands. Selcucus was wel- 
comed back to Babylon. It is a matter of great importance 
that it was in these centres of the most ancient and peculiar 
civilization, such as Egypt and Babylon, that the Makedonian 
generals first succeeded in establishing governments which 
awoke territorial sympathies and gave birth to new kingdoms. 
Selcucus established an independent authority in the interior 
of Asia. This success was principally due to the fact that he 
entered into a sort of partnership with an Indian ruler named 
Sandrocottus. 

In the rise of Sandrocottus there are to be seen, if I mis- 
take not, traces of national and religious influences. A Bud- 
dhist tradition is extant according to which Sandrocottus* 
was persuaded by the Brahmins to make himself master of 
the kingdom of the Prasii, which Alexander had threatened 
but had not actually attacked. This was the origin of the king- 
dom of Palimbothra. Selcucus was not in a position to over- 
throw this power, and was content to make a treaty with Sandro- 
cottus, in accordance with which live hundred elephants were 
placed at his disposal. These animals henceforward formed 
the nucleus of the force with which Selcucus subdued the 
inland provinces of Asia. Against a combination between 
Babylon and India, and in the face of the allied Indian and 
Gra3co-Makedonian forces, Persia was unable again to raise 
her head. In addition to these successes other circumstances 
enabled Selcucus to interfere actively in the disputes which 
disturbed the provinces of Asia Minor. The most important 
cause of the struggle which broke out in those districts was 
the following : 

Lysimachus, who had reduced the inhabitants of his Thra- 



* In Indian tradition he appears as Sandragupta (Lassen, " Indische 
Altertlnunsknndc," ii. pp. 200 sq.). 



i; u ; THE DIADOCHI. 

eian satrapy to a greater degree of subjection than Philip or 
even Alexander, had, like other satraps, raised himself to a 
position of independence. He refused to submit to Antigo- 
nus, and assumed the royal title. The same course of action 
was pursued in Makedonia by Cassander, whose effigy appears 
on his coins as king, although it is probable that in documents 
be did not uso the royal style. It was natural that a sort of 
league should be established between Seleucus, Lysimaehus, and 
Cassander against the prerogative which Antigonus claimed, 
and which the Ptolemies also refused to recognize. Antigo- 
nus set himself tirst of all to subdue Cassander in Makedonia. 
In this attempt he principally relied on the activity and talent 
of his son Demetrius. With the latter be was always on good 
terms, and was glad that the world should know it. 

Demetrius, like bis father, was a man of imposing presence. 
Though not quite equal to Antigonus in stature, he combined 
a grace and beauty of bis own with the awe-inspiring and 
dignified appearance which be inherited from the latter, and 
the haughty expression of his countenance was softened by 
an air of princely magnanimity, lie was fond of societ}', ami 
delighted in feasting with his comrades, but this did not ren- 
der him less attentive to more serious employment. He had 
a leaning towards Greek culture, and Mas even ambitious of 
being initiated into the Mysteries. The Athenians revered 
him as a god. 

.Demetrius, by promising freedom to the Creeks, became 
involved in new hostilities with Cassander. In this conflict 
be maintained bis superiority; be not only wrested from Cas- 
sander his dominions in Greece, but threatened him in Make- 
donia. Cassander began to think it advisable to open friendly 
negotiations with Antigonus. The latter, however, rejected. 
all efforts at reconciliation in which any conditions were of- 
fered. Indignant at this treatment, Cassander sought help 
of Lysimaehus, to whom the independence of Makedonia was 
indispensable for the maintenance of his own position in 
Thrace. At the same time he applied to the two new mon- 
archs, rtolennvus and Seleucus, who had already made them- 
selves independent. The four kings combined their forces 
against the fifth, who laid claim to a universal supremacy. 



BATTLE OF IPSUS. 457 

At Ipsus, in Phrygia, the armies came into collision, in the 
summer of the year 301. Antigonus had at first spoken of 
his enemies with contempt, as a flock of birds whom he would 
disperse witli a single stone ; but he could not fail to be im- 
pressed by the combination which Lysimachus and Seleucus 
effected on the banks of the Ilalys. His enemies brought a 
force into the field which, though not more numerous than 
liis own, possessed an undoubted superiority in the elephants 
which accompanied Seleucus. In the warfare of the time 
elephants formed a very formidable and effective arm. An- 
tigonus possessed seventy-five of these animals, but Seleucus 
brought four hundred into the field. This fact alone seems 
to have produced in the camp of Antigonus a presentiment of 
coming misfortune. Indeed, Antigonus himself, who on all 
previous occasions felt certain of success, is said to have called 
upon the gods either to grant him victory or save him by a 
speedy death from the disgrace of defeat. At the first col- 
lision the cavalry of Demetrius were successful, but their vic- 
tory was rendered useless by the rashness of their leader, who 
pressed on too far in the pursuit. The soldiers of the phalanx 
did not venture to close with the elephants. If their enemy 
was no Poms, their leader was no Alexander, and they were 
not prepared to risk everything in order to protect Antigonus 
against the other captains of the Makedonian army. Accord- 
ingly, when Seleucus summoned the phalanx to come over to 
his side, a large body obeyed his invitation. Antigonus in 
vain awaited his son's return ; before the latter came back 
from the pursuit in which he was engaged, his father was killed 
by a javelin. He was already more than eighty years old. 
Demetrius withdrew to his fleet, upon which alone he could 
now place reliance. 

It may be worth while to remark that the battle of Ipsus 
was not decided by any real conflict between the Makedonian 
forces in either army, but by a portion of one army changing 
sides. The unity of the Makedonian forces was still to some 
extent maintained. The battle of Ipsus bears great resem- 
blance to the events that had lately taken place on the Nile. 
In that conflict the first man who, after the death of Alexan- 
der, had laid claim to universal authority succumbed, while at 



45S THE DIADOCHI. 

Ipsus the second claimant, who believed himself entitled to 
exercise a similar if less extensive authority, was overthrown 
and set aside. That event decided that henceforward the 
military monarchs were to be on an equality. But at the same 
moment another question, rather provincial than universal in 
its nature, was raised by the dissolution of the kingdom of 
Antigonus and the division of his territory among the victors. 
Seleucus enlarged his dominions in Western Asia by the ad- 
dition of Mesopotamia, Armenia, and Syria as far as the Eu- 
phrates, while Ptolenueus established himself in possession of 
Koele-Syria. In this manner two new empires of wide extent 
and established authority came into existence. 

While these incidents ushered in a new state of things in 
the East, events in Europe were following a different, and in- 
deed opposite, course. In the East the power of Antigonus 
was destroyed ; in the West his descendants obtained posses- 
sion of the throne of Makedonia. Let us endeavor to explain 
in a few words how this took place. 

Demetrius Poliorketes, who had already won the greatest 
reputation among the military commanders of his daj r , held 
his ground in Cyprus and on the neighboring coasts of Cilicia 
and Phoenicia. But he could have had no intention of look- 
ing farther eastward. The element on which he possessed 
real power was the sea, and his interests called him to Greece, 
where a short time before he had been raised to the position 
of Strategus. He had indeed to experience a diminution of 
authority in Greece, owing to the issue of the battle of Ipsus, 
for Athens, at whose hands, as he justly declared, he deserved 
better treatment, deserted his cause, and other cities followed 
her example. But their desertion only heightened the ambi- 
tion of Demetrius, who now had some appearance of right on 
his side ; he therefore turned his forces against Athens. That 
city found support in the kings of Thrace, Makedonia, and 
Egypt. It was a question of universal interest whether De- 
metrius would overpower Athens or not. 

Demetrius was aided by the excesses of the democracy, 
which in Athens exercised a sort of tyranny. While the 
strength of the city was wasted in violent internal feuds, he 
used his navy with such effect that an Egyptian squadron sent 



GENEROSITY OF DEMETRIUS. 459 

to aid the Athenians could gain no advantage over him. He 
then proceeded to cut off the Athenian supplies, so that the 
inhabitants, wasted by internal strife and pinched by famine, 
were forced to submit. Every one has heard how Demetrius 
assembled the people in the theatre, and instead of inflicting 
upon them the penalties which appeared imminent — for they 
were completely surrounded by the victorious army — gave 
them a free pardon, restored their liberties, and made them a 
welcome present of provisions. It was, in great measure, to 
the glory of her literature that Athens owed her escape on 
this occasion, for Demetrius was by nature susceptible to in- 
fluences of this kind, and was eager to be credited with gen- 
erosity. 

After this success Demetrius thought comj^aratively little 
of losing the remainder of his father's dominions in Asia, 
which fell into the hands of his neighbors, for a new field was 
now open for his activity. Cassander, King of Makedonia, 
was lately dead,* and among his sons there was no one to take 
his place. The eldest of them, who succeeded his father, died 
young, and his brothers were soon at open war over his in- 
heritance. The struggle for power has never caused more 
horrible crimes than in the period with which we are now 
dealing, and the most horrible of all was committed by the 
elder of the surviving sons of Cassander. He put his mother 
to death becanse he believed that she gave the preference to 
his younger brother, Alexander — an act which has involved 
him in eternal infamy. The younger son, Alexander, was of 
a vacillating character, and subject to extraneous influence. 
It is therefore not surprising that the Makedonians turned 
their eyes to Demetrius, who was son-in-law of the elder An- 
tipater, and of whose temperate conduct they preserved a fa- 
vorable recollection. 

Demetrius caused Alexander to be put to death at a fes- 
tival in Larissa. The Makedonian troops who accompanied 
him went over to Demetrius, and the latter followed him to 
Makedonia, where he found a favorable reception, especially 

* According to Porphyrius, in 01. 120, 4; according to Eusebius, in 01. 
120, 3 (Niebubr, « Klciuc Hist, und Philol. Scbriften, p. 223), B.C. 297. 



4G0 TIIE DIADOCHI. 

as he brought with him his son, Antigonus Gonatas, the 
grandson of Antipater, who was to be his heir. Encouraged 
by this success, he formed the plan of passing over again into 
Asia and reviving his father's dominions in that quarter. But 
while preparing to carry out this intention he was deserted 
by the troops whom he had collected for the purpose. These 
troops had been willing enough to make Demetrius master of 
Makedonia, for in so doing they had run no great risk ; but 
to accompany him to Asia and to restore to him his father's 
power would of necessity involve a sanguinary contest with 
other troops who themselves belonged to the Makedonian 
army. Such an undertaking was therefore by no means to 
their taste. The events which had occurred on the Nile and 
on the field of Ipsus were repeated a third time on this occa- 
sion. The Makedonians refused to serve a prince who at- 
tempted to entangle them in a dangerous struggle, in which 
only his personal interests were involved. 

It was clear, then, that the military power gave up the at- 
tempt to combine the conquests of Alexander into one united 
empire. It acquiesced in the necessity of a partition of terri- 
tory, in itself of very extensive nature, and continually in- 
volving fresh difficulties. Lysimachus had lately established 
a kingdom in Thrace, which included a portion of Asia Mi- 
nor. The continued existence of this kingdom was perhaps 
desirable in order that resistance might be made to the neigh- 
boring barbarian races, not so much to those of Scythian as 
to those of Keltic origin. But the Thracian kingdom could 
not establish itself on a firm basis. On one of its borders it 
was constantly exposed to attacks from Makedonia, against 
which, however, Lysimachus was able to defend himself. 
Demetrius followed a rash and adventurous policy. By at- 
tempting at one and the same time to maintain himself in 
Makedonia and Greece, to conquer Thrace, and to attack Asia, 
he became involved in hostilities with Scleucus. In the 
course of these hostilities he fell into the hands of that prince, 
and died in prison (283 b.c.). 

Successful against Demetrius, Lysimachus quarrelled with 
Seleucus. The two princes had combined against Antigonus 
and his son, but when there was nothing more to fear from 



ANTIGONUS GONATAS. 4G1 

these opponents they fell out with each other. They were 
the two last living companions of Alexander the Great, but in 
spite of this and of their advanced age these generals trans- 
formed into kings were animated by a restless craving for 
the exclusive possession of a supreme power which had no 
legitimate representative, a craving which led to the destruc- 
tion of their families and continually embittered their mutual 
relations. As the Makedonian prince alluded to above made 
away with his mother, so Lysimachus put to death his son as 
soon as he appeared to become dangerous. The friends and 
supporters of the latter took refuge with Seleucus, whereupon 
war broke out between the two kings. At the very first col- 
lision with Seleucus, Lysimachus succumbed.'" His power 
melted away and his kingdom disappeared. 

Above the ruins of the kingdom of Thrace the kingdom 
of Makedonia maintained its footing, or, rather, we may say, 
was established anew. In the universal confusion known as 
the time of the anarchy, Antigonus Gonatas, son of Deme- 
trius and grandson of Antipater, succeeded to the throne of 
Makedonia (270 B.C.). Here, too, the authority of the ancient 
kings came into the hands of a race whose founder was 
one of Alexander's generals. The government of Antigonus 
Gonatas forms an epoch in the history of his country. He 
maintained the influence of Makedonia in Greece, but re- 
spected the independence of the latter. He kept up a stub- 
born contest with the Northern barbarians, and at the same 
time came into contact with the Western powers, who were 
struggling with each other for the possession of Italy. We 
shall come upon this kingdom by and by in a different con- 
nection, but our present object is to trace the history of the 
two other kingdoms which followed the path that Alexander 
had opened to them. Their development is one of the most 
splendid episodes in the history of the world. 

Among the great names of antiquity, that of Seleucus Nica- 

* This is the battle spoken of by Porphyrins, " kv ry mpl KSpov mSiov 
H&xy" ("Fragm. Hist. Grac." ed. Midler, iii. 638). It took place in the 
summer of 281 B.C. (Clinton, "Fasti Hell." ii. append. 4, p. 235). Ap- 
pian places it near the Hellespont (" Syriake," chap. G2, " mpi &pvyiav tjjv 
i(p' 'E\\7]<j:r6vT<t> 7ro\tfiiov "). 



462 TIIE DIADOCHI. 

tor is conspicuous, as a star of the second magnitude, indeed, 
but of the most brilliant lustre. His history, like the histo- 
ries of Cyrus and llomulus, is enveloped in legend, a proof, 
at any rate, of the importance attached to him by his contem- 
poraries. To him we must ascribe a decisive share in most 
of the great military events of the epoch. He had originally 
divided Asia Minor with Lysimachus, but, in consequence of 
the battle alluded to above, the hitter's share was added to his 
own. His dominions thus extended from the Hellespont to 
the Indus, and it was chiefly through him that the Graeco- 
Makedonian power in Asia became firmly established. The 
power of the Persian empire, maintained by depriving the 
subject races of independent armaments, prepared the way 
for the supremacy of the Greeks and Makedonians. Alexan- 
der showed tact in announcing that he intended to free the 
Asiatic peoples from the Persian yoke ; for the only real 
resistance which he experienced from the populations with 
which he came into contact was in Tyre and on the Indus. 
Nevertheless, this dominion was by no means secure when it 
came into the hands of Perdiccas. It might, indeed, have 
been expected that it would have been weakened by the mu- 
tual rivalries of the commanders; but, as we have already 
remarked, their conflicts were never very sanguinary. The 
Makedonian army avoided what, at a later epoch of the 
world's history, was of frequent occurrence in the Frankish 
army, with which it had much resemblance. A serious strug- 
gle between two portions of the former body never took place. 
If these portions agreed to separate, a compensation was to be 
found in the fact that this severance enabled them better to 
consolidate their respective dominions. 

The dominion of Seleucus can hardly be regarded as a con- 
tinuation of that of Alexander or of the Persian empire, for 
its true centre was at Babylon ; on the contrary, it was rather 
a revival of the Assyrio-Babylonian empire, which, by the aid 
of the Grreco-Makedonian army, freed itself from the grasp 
of the Medes and Persians. The Magi were, so to speak, ex- 
pelled by the Chaldaeans. Bel, the god of Babel, attained in 
Seleukeia, the capital of Seleucus, to a religious influence over 
the interior of Asia which in earlier times he had never en- 



THE ASSYRIO-BABYLONIAN EMPIRE. 4G3 

joyed. In Media, if not in Persia, colonics of no small im- 
portance, sent out by the new monarch, are to be found. 

In spite of the independence of Sandrocottus, the connec- 
tion with India, as is proved by the coins of Grecian work- 
manship which are found in those regions,* was maintained. 
In other districts, as under Alexander, a certain fusion of the 
Oriental and Makedonian civilizations took place. In Arme- 
nia a Persian named Orontes had established his power, and 
as early as the middle of the third century we find, from the 
evidence of a coin, that a king named Arsames was reigning 
in that country. Cappadocia was ruled by Ariarathes, who 
claimed descent from an intimate friend of Darius. In the 
second century we find in this country a king of Greek cult- 
ure named Ariarathes the Fifth. The kings of Pontus, who 
bore the title of Mithridates, and were recognized by the suc- 
cessors of Alexander as early as the year 300, declared them- 
selves to be descendants of a Persian grandee named Arta- 
bazus, of the time of Darius Hystaspis. From an early date 
they paid attention to Greek culture, and one of them is de- 
scribed as an admirer of Plato. In the northwestern table- 
land of Media a portion of the old Persian empire survived. 
x\fter the fall of that empire Atropates remained as satrap in 
this region, and his name lived on for many centuries in the 
name of the territory over which he ruled. Swarms of ma- 
rauders often issued from this country by the passes near the 
Caspian Sea, and traversed the dominions of Seleucus as far 
as Ecbatana ; and the connection between the Caspian and 
Black seas, which Seleucus attempted to maintain, was fre- 
quently interrupted. 

Of the hostilities between Media and Syria, which, accord- 
ing to Strabo, led to the revolt of Bactria and Parthia, we 
have only vague and fragmentary information. In the terri- 
tory of Bactria, the home of an ancient civilization, the Greek 
dominion maintained itself, though not always under the su- 

* Among the Bactrian coins of Greek stamp are to be found some 
■which bear the name of Antiochus II. of Syria. They appear to belong 
to the time when Diodotus made himself independent, but still recog- 
nized the king of the Syrians (see Von Danenberg in Von Sybel's "Hist. 
Zeitschrift" [1879], p. 491). 



4G4 TIIE DIADOCHI. 

premacy of the Syrian monarchs. So early as the middle of 
the third century there appear independent rulers of Greek 
origin, such as Diodotus. His family was driven out by Eu- 
thydemns, whose son Demetrius appears as king of the 
Indians. The Greeks had established themselves firmly in 
Bactria, and thence extended their power to India. Histori- 
cal research is acquainted with these kings only through their 
coins, from which it is ascertained that they were frequently 
at war with one another. As representatives of Greek power 
and culture in the most distant regions, they deserve to escape 
oblivion. So far as can be discovered, it was at the moment 
of their separation from the Syrian kingdom that the Parthi- 
ans, too, rose against the Seleukidte. Their rising took place 
under the leadership of Arsakes, who is described by Strabo 
as a native of Scythia. The Parthians were a nation of horse- 
men, who, in earlier times, had always assisted the Persians, 
but refused to be kept in subjection by the Greeks. 

It is evident from these considerations that the Syrian mon- 
archy was far from ruling all that had belonged to Persia. 
In reality its power was confined to Mesopotamia, Babylon, 
Asia Minor, and Syria. Let us take a rapid survey of the 
latter. Syria, properly so called, contained four important 
towns, two of which, namely, Antioch and Apameia, were in 
the interior. The latter was the arsenal of the Seleukuhi', 
and was provided with a fortification on a hill, where the 
prince kept his stud of elephants. The other two cities were 
on the coast. One of these, named Seleukeia, was built on a 
spur of the Pierian mountains, difficult of access on all sides 
and strongly fortified, so as to form a refuge in case of need. 
Where the rocky hillside drops towards the sea a harbor had 
boon made, around which a seaport sprang up, but this sea- 
port was quite separate from the city itself, which was acces- 
sible only to foot passengers, by means of precipitous paths. 
The ruins of the city are still to be seen. Somewhat farther 
south we find another fortified place with a better harbor, 
named Laodikeia, a city deriving great wealth from its trade 
in wine. A road, of incomparable interest from the variety 
and cultivation of the districts through which it passed, led 
from Laodikeia to Antioch. These cities formed the Syrian 



THE KINGDOM OF SYRIA. 465 

Tetrapolis. Seleucus named Antioch after his father, Laodi- 
keia after his mother ; and these two cities, founded by him- 
self, lie probably regarded as the most important in his do- 
minions. Apameia was named after his Persian wife, Selcu- 
keia after himself. 

Seleucus may be regarded as one of the greatest founders 
of cities who has ever lived. Centuries afterwards he is cele- 
brated by Appian as a man endowed with an energjr and ac- 
tivity which always attained their aim, who out of miserable 
peasants' huts created great and flourishing cities. A lono- 
list of cities founded by him continues the tale of those which 
keep alive the recollection of Alexander in the East. These 
cities, however, must not be reckoned solely to the credit of 
Seleucus and Alexander. Their origin was closely connected 
with the main tendencies of Greek colonization. The Greeks 
had struggled long and often to penetrate into Asia, but so 
long as the Persian empire remained supreme they were en- 
ergetically repulsed, and it was only as mercenaries that they 
found admittance. This ban was now removed. Released 
from all restrictions and attracted by the revolution in politi- 
cal affairs, the Greeks now streamed into Asia Minor, Syria, 
and Egypt. We find them everywhere ; even Judrea found 
herself, on all her frontiers, exposed to the influence of Greek 
culture, which, emanating from Syria or Egypt, hemmed her 
in on every side. The Jews profited by the opportunity thus 
afforded to take part in the general movement, but without 
breaking the ties which bound them to their high-priest and 
to Jerusalem. The kings of Syria granted them a share in 
the municipal administration of the towns, with whose con- 
sent the Greeks had been introduced, but the Hellenic ele- 
ment remained universally predominant. 

If we inquire, then, which are the towns that owed their 
origin to this movement of the nations, we shall find that 
Antioch had already been founded by Antiochus, who colo- 
nized it partly with Makcdonians, but still more with Athe- 
nians. The orators praise the fertility of its soil and the beauty 
of its scenery, the mildness of its climate in winter, and the 
coolness of its summer breezes. The city was traversed by a 
street of unusual dimensions, three-quarters of a mile in 

30 



4GG T11E diadociii. 

length, resembling those of Naples and Palermo in later times. 
A mile from the city lay a grove sacred to Apollo and Diana, 
called Daphne, where art and nature combined to form a re- 
sort of pleasure and debauchery. 

Still more splendid was the position of Alexandria in 
Egypt, the most important of all the foundations of Alexan- 
der. The Ptolemies maintained their supremacy in the Med- 
iterranean. They conquered Cyprus and made Rhodes their 
ally ; Egyptian merchants were to be found even in the Black 
Sea. The close connection between Egyptian and Greek civ- 
ilization which thus sprang up is shown by the fact that a 
statue of the Stygian Zeus was brought from Sinope to Egypt, 
to be worshipped there as the Serapis-Osiris of the under- 
world. In the internal disputes that raged among the Greeks 
of the mother country the Ptolemies exercised a very strong 
political influence. One of the consequences of this probably 
was that the most ancient myths about the connection be- 
tween Egypt and Greece were now revived. But what gave 
Egypt under the Ptolemies a world-wide importance, little in- 
ferior to that which it had enjoyed under the Pharaohs, was 
the revival of maritime trade with India. It was in accord- 
ance with the position of the Ptolemies that this trade should 
be still further developed. At the spot where the continents 
of Africa and Asia are almost severed from each other by the 
Hed Sea, the Ptolemies created a waterway to join the Med- 
iterranean with the Southern Ocean. This had been formerly 
attempted by Necho, but his canal had been choked by sand. 
Restored by Ptolemy Philadelphia, it existed till the time of 
the Romans. At the same time the Red Sea was swept clear 
of Arabian pirates, so that trade with India could again be 
conducted with safety. The merchandise, which came from 
the farthest East as well as from Arabia and Ethiopia, was 
brought to the harbor of Alexandria, whence it was distrib- 
uted all over the world. 

By these means Egypt attained to a condition of wealth 
and prosperity such as it had never yet enjoyed. Without 
giving credit to the exaggerated statements which have been 
made respecting its population, there can be no doubt that, 
however populous the more ancient centres of industry may 



ALEXANDRIA. 467 

have been, they were far exceeded by those of Egypt under 
the Ptolemies. "We need not inquire deeply into the statis- 
tics of the Egyptian treasury, which is said to have contained 
74,000 talents ; for even if these were only talents of copper, 
the quantity of money must have been very considerable. 
The armed force of the nation was estimated at 3500 ships 
of war and an army of 240,000 men. This army, owing to 
the fact that it originally consisted of Makedonian troops, 
always maintained a certain amount of independence. The 
prince ascended the throne only after the troops had acknowl- 
edged him as king. This dual control was not incompatible 
with an equality of civic rights. The different national ele- 
ments, Egyptian and Greek, which co-existed in the cities, 
and to which in Alexandria we must add the Jews, were 
placed on an equality in point of citizenship. If the great 
movements of the time rendered it less important to set up 
a new empire in the place of the old than to bring into har- 
mony the different national elements, often hostile to each 
other, this object was nowhere so fully attained as in Egypt. 
The Egyptian and Greek religions had a mutual attraction 
for one another. The Hellenistic Ptolemies fostered the 
native religion, and Ptolemy the son of Lagus is said to have 
spent the sum of fifty talents in the effort to discover the lost 
bull Apis. After ages of obscurity Egyptian antiquities were 
again brought to light. As Berosus connected Babylonian 
traditions with the house of the Selcukidoc, so Manetho re- 
garded the ancient dynasties of Egypt, whose existence he 
discovered from their monuments, as predecessors of the 
Ptolemies, and held the latter to be legitimate successors of 
the ancient kings. The version of the Old Testament made 
at Alexandria, and called, after the seventy translators, the 
Septuagint, has obtained a sort of sanctity. In that transla- 
tion there is no reference to the present; the earliest times 
are presented in their unadorned simplicity. 

But the fact of the greatest importance for after ages is 
that Alexandria became a new metropolis for the develop- 
ment of Greek literature and learning. The immediate cause 
of this lay in the constant struggle between the great inter- 
ests and powers which disturbed and ravaged Greece. Safety 



468 THE DIADOCHI. 

and leisure for study, which had once been looked for in 
Makedonia, were now offered by Alexandria. "We must not, 
indeed, expect to find in Alexandria philosophical or poetical 
productions of the first rank ; for this the times, altered as 
they were, were no longer suited. What the Greek genius 
was still capable of doing in these branches was done on the 
soil of the mother country. But in Alexandria a library was 
created which was intended to contain all the monuments of 
Greek literature. Men appeared who possessed a talent for 
universal learning, such as hitherto could not have been man- 
ifested. The chief of these was Eratosthenes, without doubt 
one of the greatest librarians that has ever lived. His love 
of work amounted to a passion. "When his eyes refused to 
serve him, so that he could read no longer, he is said to have 
refused to prolong his life and to have starved himself to 
death. The great political position which Egypt held was 
not without influence in the sphere of science, and gave a 
new impulse to physical research. Eratosthenes was the first 
to compile, though with insufficient means, a table of degrees 
of latitude and longitude. A knowledge of Oriental cos- 
mology, especially of the observations of the Chalda?ans, was 
indispensable for the prosecution of inquiries into the rela- 
tion of the earth to the system of which it forms a part. 
These inquiries would, however, have been impossible with- 
out the development of mathematical science. None of the 
triumphs of Greek genius surpass the elaboration of the math- 
ematical method which Euclid brought to perfection in Alex- 
andria. In the same town Archimedes also studied for some 
time. The grammatical sciences on the one hand, the math- 
ematical and physical on the other, flourished in Alexandria 
side by side, and formed a foundation for all the later science 
of the world. 



Chapter XII. 

A GLANCE AT CAKTHAGE AND SYRACUSE. 

The political condition of the Eastern world depended on 
the balance of power between the three Grceco-Makedonian 
kingdoms. But in addition to them there was another power, 
of a nature essentially different, which occupied a dominant 
position in the West. So long as the Greek nationality and 
the Greek genius were excluded from the East, they had 
pressed on by means of trade and warfare towards Western 
Europe, for forces once developed have a constant tendency 
to unlimited extension. But in the West they were met by 
the naval power of Carthage. There arose a struggle be- 
tween the Greek cities in Sicily, the chief of which was Syra- 
cuse, and the Carthaginians, who strove without intermission 
to maintain and to strengthen the position in the island which 
they had already obtained. This struggle bears some analogy 
with that between Makedonia and Persia, with which at one 
time, as we shall see, it was actually connected. Nevertheless 
it bears in reality quite a different character, for it was not 
fought out between great kings, but between two republics. 
One of these — namely, Carthage — was of Semitic origin, and 
manifested oligarchical tendencies, while the other, Syracuse, 
was closely connected with the mother country of Greece, 
and was under a government in which democratic forms, now 
and then alternating with a tyranny, preponderated. 

Let us in the first place describe as briefly as possible the 
position of Carthage. Strabo is the first writer who remarks 
the unity and compactness of those regions on the shores of 
the Mediterranean which lie beyond the point where the 
western promontory of Sicily approaches most nearly to the 
coast of Africa. The strait, as Strabo calls it, is here only 



470 CARTHAGE AND SYRACUSE. 

about ninety miles across. At this spot, on the northern 
coast of Africa, the Tynan colony of Carthage had established 
a maritime empire of its own. In the most ancient times the 
Greeks tried in vain to obtain a footing in Corsica and Sar- 
dinia, and were obliged to give up the attempt. Cagliari is a 
Punic, that is to say, a Carthaginian colony. The island of 
Malta or Melita received its name, which means a place of 
refuge, from Punic seamen. So, too, Panormus is but a trans- 
lation of the Punic name Am-Machanath, derived from its 
extensive harbor. Composed of the same elements, and ani- 
mated by the same impulses as Tyre, Carthage possessed this 
advantage over its mother city, that there were no powerful 
states engaged in conflict in its rear. From the Greeks in 
Kyrene it was separated by a desert in which the frontier had 
been hallowed by a human sacrifice, represented by tradition 
as having been of a voluntary nature. The Libyan neighbors 
of Carthage were subject to no foreign influence, so that the 
Carthaginians were in undisputed possession of a considerable 
territory. 

All attempts on the part of foreigners to reach the Strait 
of Gibraltar by sea were opposed by the Carthaginians with a 
jealousy regardless of consequences. They sank all the ships 
which ventured to invade their domain. Beyond the strait 
they founded colonies both in Spain and Africa. Southern 
Spain was covered with Libyo-Phoenician settlements, and 
Tartessus, a city which had repelled Grecian attacks, was 
forced to recognize the supremacy of the Carthaginians. We 
have an account of their voyages in a southern direction in 
the course of which they sailed round Cape Bojador. Traces 
have been found in their histories of their having reached the 
coast of Senegambia, where they founded colonies. The con- 
nection between the Mediterranean and the Atlantic Ocean 
was exclusively in their hands. For the maintenance of their 
supremacy, and for the completion of their mercantile empire, 
the possession of Sicily, disputed by the Greeks and especially 
by the Syracusans, was all -important. In order to under- 
stand the general position of the world at this epoch it is in- 
dispensable that we should take a glance, at any rate, at the 
leading events of this struggle. 



IIERMOCRATES. 471 

If the Atheniaus had succeeded in their attack on Syra- 
cuse, the Carthaginians would hardly have been able to main- 
tain their footing on the island. The disastrous issue of that 
enterprise not only freed them from their danger, but turned 
out to their advantage. The tribes whom the Athenians 
had summoned to their aid were for some time longer most 
useful to the Carthaginians. Other levies, less efficient, but 
still more numerous, were collected in Libya, Spain, and Ita- 
ly by Hannibal, grandson of that Hamilcar who had fallen 
at Himera, and carried across by him in the year 410 to 
Sicily. At the spot where he first landed, Lilybjeum, after- 
wards one of the chief arsenals of the Carthaginians, was 
built. He took Selinus, in spite of a strenuous resistance, 
which continued even after a breach had been made in the 
walls, and overcame the people of Himera. He brought the 
prisoners, 3000 in number, to the spot where his grandfather 
had fallen, and there slew them all as a horrible sacrifice to 
the hero's shade. 

Under pressure of the terror inspired by this event the 
Greek population showed nothing but weakness. In Her- 
mocrates, indeed, Syracuse possessed a man who might have 
been able to check the progress of the Carthaginians. He 
had distinguished himself above all others in the strusrsrle 
with Athens, and had afterwards aided the Lakedoemonians 
on the coast of Asia Minor. Thukydides says of him that in 
skill and courage he had no superior. But it was often the 
case in these republics that civil strife caused the banishment 
of their best citizens, and Hermocrates was exiled from Syra- 
cuse. For a time he carried on war in Sicily on his own ac- 
count. He partially restored Selinus, and made several not 
unsuccessful forays into Carthaginian territory. These feats 
gained him universal recognition from all but his political en- 
emies. The latter had no intention of recalling hira, and 
when he attempted, with the help of his partisans, to force 
his way into the city, he was struck down and killed in the 
market-place (408-7 b.c). The violence of party feeling in 
this case, as in others, stifled all respect for personal merit, 
however great. 

Soon after these events the Carthaginians appeared again 



472 CARTHAGE AND SYRACUSE. 

in Sicily. Agrigentum, the second city of the island, fell 
into their bands after a siege of seven months (November, 
406 B.C.). The very size of the city and the number of its 
inhabitants facilitated its reduction by famine. This event 
inspired universal terror among the Sicilian Greeks. They 
feared that it would be impossible for them to hold out 
against the superior numbers of the Carthaginians, and many 
fled with their wives and children into Italy. They felt no 
further confidence in Syracuse, for they argued that, if the 
Syracusan generals had wished to do so, they might have saved 
Agrigentum. It was even supposed that the latter were in- 
clined to favor the Carthaginians, and perhaps were bribed by 
them. In Syracuse itself the panic caused by the progress of 
the Carthaginians brought about a change of constitution, 
and placed the government in the hands of a tyrant. The 
people of Agrigentum urged their complaint against the Syra- 
eusan generals for some time in vain, for the reputation and 
political influence of the latter were so great that no one dared 
to incur their enmity. At length, however, one of the old 
companions of llermoerates, named Dionysius, a man of hum- 
ble birth, ventured to give expression to public opinion. In 
his attempts he had the support of the historian Philistus, a 
wealthy citizen of good family, who promised to help him with 
money if his enterprise miscarried. It was, however, com- 
pletely successful, for the people of Syracuse were convinced 
of the truth of the charges, and were fully awake to the im- 
portance of the crisis. The result was that the generals were 
deprived of their office, and Dionysius with certain others 
put in their place. After a short time, and without much 
trouble, Dionysius got the supreme power into his hands. 

At first, however, no alteration took place in the general 
position of affairs. On the contrary, Dionysius considered it 
desirable, for the sake of his own reputation in the city, to be 
recognized by the Carthaginians. He therefore concluded a 
peace, by which the latter were allowed to retain Ilimera, 
Selinus, and Agrigentum. It was also provided that the mu- 
tual independence of all the Greeks who were not subject to 
the Carthaginians should be maintained, a proceeding which 
involved a complete disruption of the Grecian power. In 



DIONYSIUS THE ELDER. 473 

Dionysius the Elder we find a character compounded of de- 
cision, cunning, and violence, and endowed with a vigor and 
activity which enabled him to maintain his position in the 
stormy ferment of a democratic community. If we may be- 
lieve Aristotle, Dionysius, like Peisistratus before him, raised 
himself to power by arousing in the popular mind a fear of 
the aristocracy. Real virtue, which is transparent in its nat- 
ure, is not to be looked for in such a man. Philistus, who 
probably during the critical period of his life helped him with 
good counsel, was afterwards ill-treated by him, but, never- 
theless, Dionysius has received more justice at the hands of 
Philistus than from any other historian. 

Dionysius, as soon as he felt his power in some degree 
established, ventured to renew the war with Carthage. His 
armaments were considerable, but Syracuse could not, unaid- 
ed, measure swords with Carthage. Ilimilco, who belonged 
to the same family as Hannibal,* took the field against Dio- 
nysius with a force undoubtedly far superior to that of the 
Syracusans, even if we refuse credit to the statement of 
Timeeus that his army numbered 400,000 men. Dionysius 
did not venture to fight a pitched battle in the Carthaginian 
territory, where he had made great progress before Ilimilco 
appeared. He retreated to his capital, where he was soon ex- 
posed to a combined attack by land and sea on the part of 
his successful and vindictive enemy. The temple of Deme- 
ter, one of the chief sanctuaries of that goddess, was plun- 
dered, and the suburb of Achradina was taken. The besiegers 
made very serious progress, and the enemies of Dionysius 
within the town began to stir. A great disaster appeared im- 
minent, but, as had been the case in the Athenian expedition, 
the Syracusans were saved by the situation of their city and 
by a climate fatal to all but natives of the place. The tem- 
perature, varying between frost at night and intolerable heat 
by day, combined with the exhalations of the marshy neigh- 
borhood to produce an infectious pestilence in the Carthagin- 
ian army. The plague — for such it was — made such ravages 

* Hamilcar, who died in 480 B.C., had three sons, Ilimilco, Ilanno, and 
Gisgo. Gisgo's son was Hannibal; the son of Hanno was Himilco. 



4 7 ± CARTHAGE AND SYRACUSE. 

that Ilimilco was forced to raise the siege (39G b.c). Dionys- 
ius, however, refused to allow the Carthaginians to retire un- 
molested until they had paid him a considerable sum of money. 
The people of Carthage had already heard of the disaster, and 
on Himilco's return thronged the quays in a state of painful 
expectation. Loud lamentations broke forth when the few 
survivors disembarked, last of all the commander himself, 
without his arms and in slave's attire. The first words he 
uttered were those of regret that he had not himself perished. 
Loudly lamenting his misfortune, and attended by a vast 
crowd, he passed through the city to his own house. There 
he dismissed his attendants, and shutting the door upon the 
multitude, without even bidding his son farewell, he put an 
end to his life. In consequence of this disaster the Cartha- 
ginians gave up Tauromenium and withdrew within the fron- 
tier of the Ilalycus. Although they were still powerful, Syra- 
cuse maintained her independence and greatness ; and we can- 
not but credit Dionysius the Elder with making active use 
of his power. He defeated the Illyrian and Sardinian pi- 
rates, as well as the Italian Greeks, and reigned with brilliant 
success until his death in the year 367 b.c. 

His son was not capable of carrying on his system of 
government, and civil disputes soon broke out in Syracuse. 
Dion, a near relation of Dionysius, the head of the aristocratic 
party, and an intimate friend of Plato, engaged in conflict 
with the democrats. In consequence of these troubles the 
Carthaginians became so powerful that the Syracusans, under 
the combined pressure of civil and foreign war, at last de- 
manded aid of their mother city, Corinth. Help was brought 
to them by Timoleon, a strong supporter of democratic prin- 
ciples, and at the same time a commander of the first rank. 
He belonged to the school of Iphicrates and Chabrias, and 
was completely master of the military science which the 
Greeks had brought to such perfection, and which was ap- 
parent in the mercenary armies of the day. He came to the 
aid of the Syracusans with a force of 12,000 men, and fought 
a battle on the Crimissus, in which he drove an army of 
70,000 Carthaginians from the field (June, 339 b.c). Two 
years later Timoleon died. 



TIMOLEON. 475 

It was always the Greek democracy which, first of all un- 
der the tyrants, and then under the tyrannicides, of whom 
Timoleon himself was one, defended the independence of 
Sicily against Carthage. A striking episode in universal his- 
tory is formed by the conflict between these two communi- 
ties, composed of elements so essentially diverse and so di- 
ametrically opposed to one another — on the one hand Syra- 
cuse, the outpost of Hellenic culture in the West, a centre of 
intellectual, political, and commercial activity, yet maintain- 
ing the most intimate connection with the mother country; 
and on the other Carthage, the outpost of Phoenician power, 
and mistress of the seas, isolated, independent, and myste- 
rious. 

Carthage was affected but not injured by the result of the 
Persian wars. The fall of Tyre put an end to the political, 
and probably to the commercial, relations between Phoenicia 
and its greatest colony. Carthage stood in direct opposition 
to Alexander, who was believed, as we have already said, to 
have contemplated an attack upon that city.* It is impossi- 
ble to sa} 7 , if such an attack had been undertaken, what would 
have been its result. The immediate successors of Alexander 
were too fully occupied in conflicts with each other to turn 
their eyes towards the west. But just at this time it hap- 
pened that a power arose in Syracuse which renewed the war 
with Carthage in such a way as to threaten that city with sud- 
den destruction. 

Among those who, through Timolcon's influence, had ob- 
tained the franchise in Syracuse was an inhabitant of Rhc- 
gium. His son, named Agathocles, at first followed his fa- 
ther's trade of potter — that is, he probably made the orna- 
mental vases and urns which at that time were so much in 
request for sepulchral use in Italy and Etruria. Afterwards 
he became a soldier and rose to a high position. lie was a 
young man in whom extraordinary physical strength was com- 



* According to Justin (xxi. 6) the Carthaginians scut an embassy to 
Alexander, which obtained information and sent in a report as to his 
plans against them. A similar statement is to be found in Frontinus 
(" Stratcg." i. 2, 3). 



476 CABTHAGB AND SYRACUSE. 

bined with beauty and the most resolute audacity with Gun- 
ning and caution.* By his marriage with the widow of a 
rich and distinguished citizen lie connected himself with the 
aristocracy, who, however, showed him little favor on that 
account. Sent as commander of a body of troops to the aid 
of Croton, he established a legitimate claim to the prize of 
valor, but this prize was refused him by the oligarchs of 
Syracuse. Nothing could have more deeply wounded the 
susceptibilities of an ambitious young man than the refusal, 
on party grounds, of an honor so eagerly coveted. 

In the civil quarrels which disturbed Syracuse, Agathocles 
now took the side of the people, lie -was banished, recalled, 
then banished a second time. The aristocrats persecuted him, 
the people were unable to protect him. and on one occasion it 
was only through the precaution of putting another man into 
his clothes that he escaped death. The unfortunate person 
so disguised was actually slain. Outside the walls of the city 
he attained an independent position. Southern Italy and 
Sicily were t-t ill a prey to all the misery of civil and foreign 
war, which in Greece itself had been happily diminished by 
the League of the Public Peace, established by King Philip. 
Numerous exiles were everywhere to be found, who were en- 
gaged in unceasing feud with the cities whence they had 
been expelled. At the head of such a body of exiles Agath- 
ocles made his reputation. After having been driven out 
of Syracuse for the second time, he collected round him a 
vagabond troop of outlaws, who regarded him as their chief, 

* The history of Agathocles is known to us from two authors, who, 
however, contain only selections from others, viz., Diodorus Sieulus and 
Tragus Pompeius, the latter of whom comes down to ns in the form of 
excerpts made by Justin. Whence did these authors draw their informa- 
tion i That TrogUS had Timants before Ids eyes is clear from a passage 
of Polybius. This passage, however, refers only to an event in the youth 
of Agathocles, Diodorus. too, cites Timauis here and there, hut rejects 
him. It is assumed that he follows Callias, who wrote in favor o{' Agatho- 
cles. This, however, is not probable, because the cruelties ot' Agatho- 
eles are drawn by Diodorus in colors too dark to be traced to a flat- 
terer. All that is certain is that there are two distinct narratives, each 
of which shows internal consistency and possesses some value. From 
Polyamus. who merely connects anecdotes, I can get no real information. 



AGATHOCLES. 477 

invested him with absolute power, and made themselves very 
troublesome to the Syracusans. 

So far we can follow the biographical accounts which Dio- 
dorus has incorporated in his work. According to him the 
later events in the life of Agathocles, like the earlier, are to 
be traced almost exclusively to party struggles in the city ; but 
in another account, taken from Trogus Pompeius by Justin, 
the relations between Agathocles and Carthage, doubtless the 
most important in which he was involved, are placed in the 
foreground. According to Justin, the Syracusans, who at 
that time were on friendly terms with the Carthaginians, 
called in the latter to help them against Agathocles, and one 
of the commanders of the Carthaginian army, named Ilamil- 
car, appeared to give them the assistance they required. But 
the Carthaginians were never honest friends of Syracuse. 
Ilamilcar, it is true, brought about a reconciliation between 
Agathocles and the civic authorities, which resulted in the 
admission of the former, with his followers, into the city, 
but he was already a condottlere on his own account, and the 
entry of his troops could not but bring disturbances in its 
train. 

These disturbances we find more fully described in Dio- 
dorus than in Justin, and the difference between the two 
authors is very instructive. According to Diodorus the 
exiles were re-admitted after taking an oath to do nothing 
against the democratic constitution of the city: the dispute 
therefore was, in his view, purely an internal one. Justin, on 
the other hand, tells us that Ilamilcar supported Agathocles 
with 5000 of his savage African troops, on the latter taking 
an oath that he would forthwith recognize the supremacy of 
Carthage.* In both authors Agathocles takes an oath, but in 
each case it is an oath of which the other author knows noth- 
ing. One is inclined to regard both obligations as having 
been actually entered into, but to suppose that neither the 

* Justin, xxii. 2. That the " domestica potentia," to the furtherance of 
which Agathocles binds himself, is no other than the Carthaginian, is 
shown by the following words: "Amilcari expositis insignibus Cereris 
tactisque in obsequia Pconorum jurat," words which only imply an in- 
ferior position in the alliance made between him and Ilamilcar. 



47$ CARTHAGE AND SYRACUSE. 

Carthaginians nor the Syracusans knew what had been prom- 
ised to the other side. Both, as it turned out, were de- 
ceived. 

In Syracuse there ensued one of the most horrible deeds of 
violence which ever took place in an Hellenic city — a two 
days' massacre, in which both the aristocracy and the most 
prominent members of the popular party suffered alike. The 
number of those slain was reckoned at 4000, while C'^00 
more were forced to seek safety in flight, after which Agatho- 
cles seized on the supreme power, and established what may 
fairly be called a military tyranny. It is hardly intelligible 
that Ilamilcar should have been an idle spectator of these 
horrors if he had not had an understanding with Agatho- 
cles, and had not expected that the. latter would show him- 
self submissive to Carthage. But Agathocles, once in power, 
began to aim at re-establishing the independence of the neigh- 
boring towns, and showed no scruple in treating the allies of 
Carthage as enemies. The latter naturally turned to Carthage, 
and reproached Ilamilcar with having allowed a man to come 
to power in Syracuse from whom nothing could be expected 
but constantly increasing hostility towards Carthage. Un- 
doubtedly Ilamilcar had acted in the matter without instruc- 
tions, and such action was always regarded in Carthage as an 
unpardonable crime if it did not turn out to be successful. 
The Carthaginian government, bj T a secret vote, and without 
allowing Ilamilcar a chance of clearing himself, condemned 
him to death. It was regarded at the time as a special grace 
of the gods that he died by a natural death before the sentence 
could be put into execution. A serious war was now more 
than ever inevitable. 

The army which the Carthaginians brought into the field 
under a second Ilamilcar, the son of Gisgo, was far superior 
in numbers to that of Syracuse. Agathocles, who was by no 
means a match for the enemy, met with a defeat at Himera 
(310 b.c), due principally to the slingers from the Balearic 
Islands, who hurled large stones with an unerring skill which 
they had acquired from early practice. Without pausing to 
lay siege to Gela, which Agathocles had brought under his 
control by means as cruel as those which he had employed in 
his own city, Ilamilcar at once laid siege to Syracuse. There- 



AGATHOCLES. 479 

upon the whole island rose against Agathocles. The inhab- 
itants of Camarina and Leontini, of Catana, Tauromenium, 
and Messana, all joined the Carthaginians. The destruction 
of Agathocles, hard pressed by superior forces both by land 
and sea, and unprepared for defence, seemed imminent. In 
this crisis he hit upon a most audacious but ingenious plan, 
which, especially owing to subsequent events, made his name 
famous in later times. He knew that the power of Carthage 
in Africa itself was insecure, and determined, though actually 
besieged at the time, to defend himself from the Carthaginian 
invasion by a counter-attack upon Africa. For this purpose 
he collected a band of well-armed and devoted followers. He 
concealed his ultimate intentions, and bade all stay behind 
who would not follow his fortunes with implicit trust. Out 
of those who gave in their unconditional adhesion he formed 
a compact body, in which he even included some slaves of 
soldierly character, whom he bound by an oath to his person. 
Attended by more good-fortune than he could have expected, 
he crossed over to Africa.* His followers were without ex- 
ception thorough soldiers, men for whom his name had over- 
powering attraction. The object of his enterprise was, first 
of all, to conquer the Libyan territory, and then to make an 
attack upon Carthage itself. The prospect which Agatho- 
cles laid before his army was, that if they took Carthage they 
would be masters both of Libya and Sicily, but he made his 
attempt rather as a condottiere on his own account than in 
the name of Syracuse. The ships which he brought over 
with him he set on fire, as a sacrifice, he said, to the Sicilian 
goddesses Demeter and Persephone. 

His enterprise was an act of despair: both he and his 
troops were as good as lost if they did not succeed entirely; 
but the consciousness of this gave them double energy. They 
completely defeated a Carthaginian army, whose command- 
ers, it appears, had fallen out with each other. Thereupon a 
number of cities, the walls of which the Carthaginians had 

* Agathocles set sail from the harbor of Syracuse a short time before 
August 15, 310 B.C., on which day there was an eclipse of the sun (Dio- 
dorus, xx. 5 ; Justin, xxii. 6). 



480 CARTHAGE AND SYRACUSE. 

demolished, fell into the hands of Agathocles. The native 
population rose in his favor and a Libyan prince came over 
to his side. He took possession of Utica. Lastly, while the 
Carthaginians were thus hard pressed by a Sicilian army, 
trained in the Greek school of military tactics, another enemy 
from the side of Kyrene made his appearance in the field. 

Kyrene had been occupied by a Makedonian named Ophel- 
ias, a trusty follower of Alexander the Great, in the name and 
with the support of Ptolemseus the son of Lagus. The city 
had thus been brought into contact, with the Gnvco-Makedo- 
nian kingdoms. Ophelias had since then made himself inde- 
pendent, and now gave free play to his ambition. He con- 
templated nothing less than the conquest of Africa, and formed 
an alliance with Agathocles. The latter declared that he 
would content himself with Sicily, and willingly leave Africa 
to Ophelias, on the understanding that they should join their 
forces to overpower Carthage. It is evident that, if the Make- 
donian troops who were at the disposal of Ophelias, and who 
might have been strengthened by reinforcements from Athens, 
had marched upon Carthage in combination with the troops 
of Agathocles, that great metropolis would have been in the 
most serious danger. The invading army had even reason to 
expect that, a Carthaginian general named Bomilcar would 
make common cause with them. 

It was thus, then, the military power of Hellas with which 
Carthage had to struggle for its existence. The intention 
which had been ascribed to Alexander appeared likely, some 
thirteen years after his death, to be carried into effect. The 
struggle between the Greek and Oriental divinities, which 
had been fought out by Alexander at Tyre, was transferred to 
a new battle-field, and the dominion of the Gneco-Makedonian 
element, lately founded on so firm a basis in the East, now 
threatened to extend itself to the West. Efforts, to which 
we shall have occasion to return, had already been made from 
the side of Epeirus to establish a Greek supremacy in Italy. 
It is clear, then, that the enterprise of Agathocles must not 
be regarded as an isolated adventure, for it is in reality one 
more event in the history of Greek genius striving for the 
empire of the world. 



SIEGE OF CARTHAGE. 481 

111 the face of this danger the old religions fanaticism of 
the Semitic race awoke in the people of Carthage to its full 
strength. They called to mind all the faults which they had 
ever committed against their religion — the tithes which they 
had not fully paid to Ilerculcs-Mclkart in Tyre, but above all 
the fact that they had omitted to carry out their horrible cus- 
tom of offering their first-born to Cronus-Moloch. Children 
had been imported from abroad, secretly brought up, and 
offered instead of their own. For these religious transgres- 
sions and shortcomings they believed themselves now to be 
Buffering punishment. They determined to renew the sac- 
rifice of their children according to the established ritual, 
by which they were laid in the hands of the huge Cronus, 
open, and pointed towards a furnace at his feet, into which 
the victims fell. Two hundred children from the principal 
families of Carthage were selected and publicly offered up. 
Many who found themselves suspected of similar guilt gave 
themselves or their children up to sacrifice. The ships were 
draped in black. Every general who made a mistake, or 
gave any ground for suspicion, was punished with death. 
Carthage, in the depth of her gloom, collected all her ener- 
gies to repel the attack with which she was threatened in 
Libya. 

On the other side the Greeks were as little able as ever 
to combine in a great undertaking without some dominant 
authority to lead them. Ophelias, who brought with him an 
army of 20,000 men, was treacherously put to death by Agath- 
ocles. The Kyrenian army, however, joined the Sicilian, 
so that for the great struggle with Carthage some advantage 
seemed to be gained by this act of treachery. But Agathocles 
could not reckon upon the loyalty of his troops, even of those 
lie had brought with him, much less on that of the Kyrenian 
forces who had gone over to his side. There was, as we have 
already mentioned, a partisan in Carthage who had shown an 
inclination to side with him, but at the last moment he was 
deterred by the disturbances which broke out among the 
Grecian soldiery. 

Agathocles himself was called away from Africa by the 
troubles which broke out in Sicily during his absence. He 

31 



4S2 CARTHAGE AND SYRACUSE. 

intrusted his army in Africa to the command of his son 
Archagathus. In consequence of the fame which preceded 
him he again won the upper hand in Sicily, but the Cartha- 
ginians made effective resistance in their own country, and 
brought three considerable armies into the field. On the 
other hand there arose a misunderstanding between Archas:- 
athus and his troops on the subject of their pay, which the 
Bon said he was obliged to withhold until his father's return. 
When Agathocles returned to Africa, not long after this,' he 
told his troops that their relation towards him was not pre- 
cisely that of mercenary soldiers, but rather that the fruits of 
victory were to be divided between them : they might, he 
said, find their pay in Carthage. A coup de main might pos- 
sibly have been successful if undertaken immediately, but 
Agathocles was not in a position to carry on a lengthened cam- 
paign. He succeeded in persuading his troops to march a 
second time against the enemy ; but when fortune turned 
against him a mutiny broke out in his camp, which compelled 
him to seek safety from his own troops in flight. His son was 
slain by the mutineers. Agathocles himself made good his 
escape,'- but his whole enterprise disappeared in smoke, like a 
meteor which flashes across the sky. It has no real impor- 
tance except from the fact that it disclosed the method by 
which the power of Carthage was fated eventually to be 
destroyed. 

In Sicily, however, it enabled Agathocles to establish him- 
self more firmly. Like the Makedonian generals, he assumed 
the title of king. AYe have it on the common authority of an- 
tiquity, and we are expressly assured by Polybius, that after 
having in the first instance established his power with the 
greatest cruelty, he wielded it in the most temperate fashion. 
But there could be no idea of repeating his enterprise in 
Africa. Agathocles found himself compelled to conclude 
a peace with the Carthaginians, by which they recovered 



* According to the reckoning in Meltzer's "Geschichteder Karthager" 
(\. 628), which is founded on the statement of Diodorus (xx. 69), M Ik-\h- 
oaQKara rtjvSvmv ti'ic wKu&Soq \ftfuoror ovroc," Agathocles left Africa about 
the middle of October, B.C. 307. 



RISE OF ROME. 483 

the whole dominion which they had formerly possessed in 
Sicily. 

This success was followed by a fresh development of the 
Pnnic empire. While in the East the genius and the power 
of the Greeks preserved their supremacy, the Carthaginian 
power in the West maintained itself with undiminished lustre. 
Between these two elements, the Greek and the Cartha- 
ginian, the Western world would have remained divided but 
for the appearance in their midst of a new power, that of 
Rome. 



INDEX. 



A. 

Abraham, in Canaan, 23; blessed by Mcl- 
chizedck, "24. 

Absalom, rebels, 50; slain by Joab, ib. 

Academy, the, 218, 331. 

Achsemenidse, the, 95; their power, 100. 

Acropolis, the, 139; burned, 173; descrip- 
tion of, 217, 218. 

Adonijah, 51 ; his death, 52. 

.E^ina, 128; conquered bv the Athenians, 
223. 

JEgiuctans help Athenians, 176. 

yEgospotami, battle of, 272. 

.Esehines, at Delphi, 381 ; for war with 
Amphissa, 385 ; opposed by Demosthe- 
nes, 38G. 

-Eschylus, 111, 19G ; " Prometheus Bound," 
289 ; religious views of, 290, 332 ; li Seven 
against Thebes," 291 ; ' ; Persians," ib. ; 
" Suppliants," ib. ; "Danaids,"292; "Or- 
esteia," ib. ; i: Agamemnon," lb. ; li Choe- 
phoree, ib. 

Agathocles, rise of, 475; relations with 
Carthage, 477; supreme power seized 
by, 478; invades Africa, 479; leaves 
Africa, 482; concludes peace with the 
Carthaginians, ib. 

Agesilaus, king of Lakedremon, 34G ; char- 
acter of, 347; invades Asia, ib.; attacks 
Pharnabazus, ib. ; return of, 349; resists 
Epameinondas, 357 ; in Egypt, 359 ; 
death of, 3(50. 

Agrigcntum, 131, 132; splendor of, 283; 
fall of, 472. 

Ahab, 61, G2. 

Ahriman, 10G, 107. 

Ahura, god of the Persians, 105. 

Ai, conquered, 31. 

Alemxonidrc, family of the, 139; recall of 
the, 147, 150 ; destiny of the, 219. 

Aleuadae, clan of the, 28*8, 374. 

Alexander (.Egus), murder of, 451. 

Alexander, brother of Demetrius, 459. 

Alexander the Great, becomes king, 393; 



compared with Erederick the Great, 
394 ; in Thrace, 395 ; destroys Thebes, 
399; decides on war against Persia, 401; 
ideas of, 403, 404 ; army of, 405 ; invades 
Persia, 40G ; at Ephesus, 409 ; resolves 
to attack Phoenicia, 412, 413; in Egypt, 
415, 41G ; visits the shrine of Anion, 417 ; 
crosses the Tigris, 419; in Babylon, 420, 
421; adopts Persian customs, 423 ; suc- 
cessor of Darius, 42G; invades India, 
427, 428, 430; his zeal for discovery, 
432 ; sails down the Indus, ib. ; rejoins his 
fleet, 436; returns to Babylon, ib. ; later 
schemes of, ib. ; career of victory of, 437 ; 
work and character of, 438, 439 ; bust of, 
ib. ; marriage of, 440 ; death of, ib. ; off- 
spring of, 443. 

Alexandria (in Egypt), founded, 41G; de- 
scription of, 4GG. 

■ (on the Indus), 433. 

Alkibiadcs, opposes Nikias, 243; at Argos, 
214; central figure at Athens, 24G; char- 
acter of, ib. ; speech on the Sicilian ex- 
pedition, 249 ; recalled, 256 ; escapes, ib. ; 
in Sparta, 257; in Persia, 260; position 
of, 262 ; opposes Laked:emonians, 263 ; 
recall of, 266; commander-in-chief, 269; 
leaves Athens, 270 ; death of, 274, 275. 

Amalek, war against, 41. 

Amasis,his body-guard, 154. 

Amencmhat II., 9, 10, 13. 

Amenemhat III., 7. 

Atnmon, tribe of, 23, 35; David conquers, 
147. 

Amon, god of Egypt, 3, 16; sole worship 
of, 11; temple of, 12, 15, 97; oracle of, 
190; shrine of, visited by Alexander, 
417. 

Amorites, war with Israelites, 29, 30. 

Amphictyonic Council, 182; declares war 
on Phokians, 374 ; new league, 378 ; 
votes against Locrians, 384. 

Amphipolis, taken by Brasidas, 237; by 
Olynthians, 372 ; by Philip, 372, 379. 

Amu, tribe of, 8. 



4S6 



INDEX. 



Amyntas, king of Makcdonia, 15G. 

Anaxagoras, 212, 318. 

Anaximander, 281. 

Angro-mainyus, 105. 

Anointing, ceremony of, 40. 

Antalkidas, peace of, 350. 

Antigonus (Gonatas), heir of Demetrius, 
459, 4G0 ; king of Makcdonia, 461. 

Antigonus, in Phrygia, 448; allied with 
Ptolemajus, 450; named Strategus, 452 ; 
saluted as king, 453; death of, 457 ; pow- 
er of, destroyed, 458. 

Antioch, 465; description of, 466. 

Antipater, left in Greece, 405 ; takes place 
of Perdiccas, 449 ; death of, 450. 

Antiphon, 317. 

Aornus, siege of, 429. 

Apameia, 465. 

Apis, type of Osiris, 4 ; worship of, 22, 97 ; 
lost, 467. 

Apollo, in the " Agamemnon," 292. 

Arabia known to the Israelites, 59. 

Arabians, relations with Egyptians, 11 ; 
compared with Israelites, 34. 

Arachosia subdued, 103. 

Arantha (Orontes), 16. 

Arbela, battle of, 419,420. 

Archelaus, court of, 369. 

Archidamus, king, 222. 

Archimedes, 468. 

Archons, 143. 

Areopagus, ancient form, 138, 143; power 
of, reduced, 203. 

Arginusaj, battle of, 271. 

Argo, heroes in the, 280. 

Argos, 126; policy of, 128; allied with 
Corinth, 212; league with Athens, 244; 
league with Sparta, 245. 

Argyraspides, 450. 

Aristagoras, of Miletus, 158, 159 ; at Athens, 
161. 

Aristeides, 194, 195; his authority, 196; re- 
forms of, 197; establishes supremacy of 
Athens, 198; joins with Kimon,199. 

Aristophanes, his view of Cleon, 227; the 
" Peace," 240, 241 ; his view of Socrates, 
325. 

Aristotle, disagrees with Xcnophon, 115; 
on Solon's reforms, 143 ; pupil of Plato, 
336; philosophy of, U>. ; views on nature, 
ib.; influence on the Middle Ages, 339; 
conception of the State, ib.; combats 
Plato's views, 340; teacher of Alexan- 
der, ib. ; scheme of education, 341 ; death 
of, 448. 
Armenia, rising in, 104; religion of, 108; 

under the Diadochi, 463. 
Arrhidanis, half-brother of Alexander, 443 ; 

recognized as king, 444 ; death of, 451. 
Arrian^ 397, 405, 414. 



Artabazus, as Karanos, 361. 

Artapherncs, 165. 

Artaxerxes (Mncmon) made king, 343. 

(Ochus), 361. 

, second son of Xerxes, 188 ; subdues 

Egypt, 190. 

Artemisium, battle of, 171. 

Ascalon, religion of, 21. 

Ashdod, taken by Sargon, 73. 

Aspasia, friend of Pericles, 219. 

Assur, god of Assyria, 104, 105. 

Assur-banipal, in Egvpt, 78 ; power of, 79, 
91. 

Assur -nasir-habal, king of Assyria, 67; 
reaches the Mediterranean, 68; his 
death, 69. 

Assyria, rise of monarchy in, 65 ; palaces 
of, 66 ; military power of, 75 ; religion of, 
ib.; power of, 81; collapse of, 82. 

Assvriaus, advance of, 68, 69; in Canaan, 
95. 

Astarte, in Canaan, 14, 17, 19 ; (Venus Ura- 
nia), 21 ; in Jerusalem, 55. 

Astyages, king of Media, 94. 

Asura, the, 105. 

Athaliah, daughter of Jezebel, 64. 

Athens, constitution of, 138; rise of, 149; 
democracy of, 152; helps Aristagoras, 
161 ; saved by Marathon, 168 ; after 
Persian war, 181; walls of, 182; at war 
in Egypt, 190; dominion in the Archi- 
pelago, 192; democracy of, 194; suprem- 
acy of, 198; art of, 201, 216, 319; a sea- 
port, 205; armistice with Sparta, 208; 
under Pericles, 216 ; power of, 220 ; in the 
north, ib.; naval power of, 222; revolu- 
tion of, 411 B.C., 264; intellectual life in, 
317; philosophers at, 320; maritime su- 
premacy restored, 350 ; joins Sparta 
against Thebes, 357; decay of, 3G1; war 
with Makcdonia, 372; makes peace with 
Philip, 377; alone opposes Philip, 381; 
allied with Thebes, 386; joy in, at Phil- 
ip's death, 393 ; aids Thebes against 
Alexander, 398; peace with Alexander, 
400; submits to Antipater, 447; opposes 
Demetrius, 458. 

Athos, wreck of Persian fleet off, 165. 

Attica, an Ionian district, 138. 

Auramazda, god of Persia, 102 ; influence 
of, 105, 106, 112, 113. 

Autonomy, in Bceotia, 210; in peace of An- 
talkidas, 351 ; restoration of, in Bceotia, 

m ' B. 

BAAL, in Egvpt, 2; in Canaan, 11, 14, 17; 
religion of, 19,20, 21,25,28, 35; temple 
in Samaria, 62, 64; in Asia, 86; priest- 
hood of, 403 ; worship of, favored by Al- 
exander, 421. 



INDEX. 



48^ 



Babel (Babylon), 65. 

Babylon, science of, 4, 281 ; religion of, 19- 
21 ; atmosphere of, 19 ; duodecimal sys- 
tem in, 19; mythology of, 20; cosmog- 
ony of, 21, 22 ; kings of, G7 ; conquest of, 
95 ; revolt of, 101 ; centre of Seleucus's 
kingdom, 462. 

Bacchiadie in Corinth, 135. 

Bactria, satrapy of, 103, 110; invaded by 
Alexander, 425 ; revolt of, 464. 

Bagoas, 364, 365 ; power of, 401 ; death of, 
402. 

Bashan, kingdom of, 30. 

Bedouin Arabs, possession of Delta by, 10 ; 
(Schasu), 14. 

Bel, god of Babylon, 66. 

Ben-hadad (Ben-hidri) of Damascus, 69. 

Beni-Hassan, sepulchral chambers of, 7. 

Berosus, 467. 

Beyrout, 13. 

Bibacta, island of, 435. 

Bithynia, 109. 

Bceotarchs, the, 355. 

Boeotia, 206 ; parties in, 210. 

Brahmins, 455 ; attacked by Alexander, 433. 

Brasidas, wounded, 233 ; in Thrace, 236 ; his 
character, 237 ; death of, 239; ideas of, 
351 ; speech of, 369. 

Bundehesh, the, 107. 

Byzantium, founded, 131; reconquest of, 
by Athens, 267; revolt of, 360, 361; de- 
fended against Philip, 383; importance 
of, 395. 

Cadmeia, the, surprised, 353 ; Makedonian 
garrison in the, 391. 

Callicratidas, 270. 

Cambvses, 97; crime of, 98; his death, 
99." 

Canaan, connected with Egypt, 14, 75 ; con- 
dition of, 29 ; rise of power in, 48 ; re- 
ligion of Jehovah in, ib. 

Canal of Suez, 466. 

Cappadocia, governed by satraps, 109 ; un- 
der Ariarathes, 463. 

Captivity, Jewish, 87. 

Caramania, Alexander arrives in, 435. 

Caria, prince of, 362. 

Carthage, founded, 60; independence of, 
81, 129; power in Sicily, 259, 260, 471 ; 
attack on, contemplated by Alexander, 
436 ; origin of, 469 ; position of, ib. ; mar- 
itime power of, 470; effect of Persian 
wars on, 475 ; besieged by Agathoclcs, 
480, 481. 

Caryatides, the, 217. 

Cassander, son of Antipater, 451; in Makc- 
donia, 456 ; death of, 459. 

Caucasus, known to Jews, 59, 60; barrier 
of the, 108. 



Chxroneia, battle of, 387, 388. 

Chahkeans, astronomy, 19, 468 (see Baby- 
lon). 

Chalkedon founded, 131. 

Chalkidike, invaded by Brasidas, 237; at- 
tacked by Philip, 382. 

Chalkis, foundries in, 132. 

Chain (Phoenicians), 12. 

Cheironidas, the, 288. 

Chemosh, fire-god, 55. 

Chersonese (Thracian) threatened by Philip, 
381. 

Cheta attacked by Sethos, 15, 16, 17. 

Chios, seat of the Homeridaj, 130; rebels 
against Athens, 360. 

Chnumhotep, 7. 

Cilicia allied to the Lydians, 91. 

Cimmerian tribes, advance of, 90. 

Cleisthenes, reforms of, 151; banished, ib. 

Cleitus, saves Alexander, 407; death of, 
425. 

Cleombrotus, king of Sparta, 151, 160. 

Cleomenes, king of Sparta, 151, 160. 

Cleon, character of, 227; power of, 228; op- 
poses peace, 234 ; in Thrace, 238 ; death 
of, 239. 

Cleopatra, sister of Alexander, 451. 

Cnidus, battle of, 349. 

Coinage, of Argos, 128; of Athens, 141, 
112. 

Colchis, 119. 

Colonies, yEolian, 130; Dorian, 130, 220 ; in 
the West, 220. 

Conor), Athenian commander, 272. 

Cophcn (Cabul) crossed by Alexander, 
430. 

Corinth, early history, 126, 131; war with 
Korkyra, 220; joins Argos, 242; helps 
Syracuse, 258: war with Sparta, 349; con- 
gress at, 391, 394. 

Corinthian war, the, 349. 

Coroneia, first battle of, 210; second battle 
of, 349. 

Cranon, battle of, 446. 

Craterus, 416. 

Crimissus, battle of the, 474. 

Critias, 274-276; his death, 278. 

Croesus, king of Lydia, 95, 154. 

Cunaxa, battle of, 344, 345. 

Cuneiform inscriptions, 74, 75, 88, 104. 

Cush, king of, 78. 

Cyprus, ruins of Kitium, 74; subjugation 
of, 77; subdued by Amasis, 154; Persian 
dominion in, 351; revolt against Persia, 
362; under Alexander, 413; battle of, 
452. 

Cyrus (the elder), founder of Persian em- 
pire, 94, 95. 

Cyrus (the younger), 268, 342; aids Ly- 
sander, 272 ; death of, 345. 



488 



INDEX. 



D. 

Dagon, fish-god, 38, 73. 

Dante compared with Plato, 339. 

Damascus, taken by Egyptians, 13; com- 
merce of, 4<S ; conquered by David, ib. ; 
lost by .Solomon, 53; importance of, 69, 
110. 

Darius (Hystaspis), 10] ; empire established 
under, 103; in the Persffl, 114; his en- 
terprise against the Scythians, 15G; 
vows vengeance on Athens, 102; death 
of, 169. 

(Codomannus), king of Persia, 402; 

battle at Issus, 411,412; beaten at Gau- 
gamela, 420 ; murder of, 425. 

Datis, 165; expedition of, 169. 

Davas, the, 105. 

David, chosen Icing, 42 ; laments over Saul, 
44; at Hebron, 45; anointing of, ib.; 
palace of, 40; encounters Philistines, 
ib. ; conquers Moab, Amnion, and Edom, 
47, 48 ; conquers Damascus, 48 ; death 
Of, 52. 

Deborah, 36. 

Decalogue, 20. 

Deiokes (Dayakku), 74, 94. 

Deisidaimonia, 212. 

Delion, battle of, 240. 

Delos, Ionian festival in, 129; united to 
Athens, 148; league of, 185, 198, 199, 
215 ; league transformed, 200 ; treasury 
of, 205 ; inhabitants removed, 238 ; decay 
of league, 202; league restored, 358. 

Delphi, oracle of, 117, 150, 154, 209; Orn- 
phalus of, 287. 

Delta conquered by Arabs, 10. 

Demetrius (Poliorketes), beaten at Gaza, 
452; character of, 456; in Greece, 458; 
takes Athens, 459; master of Make- 
donia, 400 ; death of, ib. 

Democracy, of Athens, 145; transformation 
of, 151 ; opposed to aristocracy, 200. 

Demosthenes (Athenian general), 232 ; at 
Pylos, 233. 

(orator), opposes war with Persia, 

362. 372 ; speech on the peace, 378 ; on 
the policy of Athens, 379; in Argos and 
Messcne, 381; third Philippic of, 382; 
opposes vEschines, 384; contrasted with 
yEschines, ib.; in Thebes, 380; opposes 
Alexander, 398; supports Leosthenes, 
446; death of, 4 17. 

Devas, the, 105. 

Diadochi, the, 448. 

Dicasteries, 203. 

Diodorus (Siculus), 300, 406,414, 417,444; 
legend of Sesostris, 18; supplements 
Thukydides, 251; compared with Tliu- 
kydides. 315 ; compared with Justin, 477. 



Diodotus opposes Cleon, 232. 

Dion at Syracuse, 474. 

Dionvsius (the elder), 472, 473 ; death of, 
474. 

Dionvsius (the younger), 474. 

Dorians, the, 125; compared with Israel- 
ites, ib. ; success of the, 126 ; colonies, 
131. 

E. 

Eclipse of the moon, 259. 

Egypt, ancient, 1 ; religion of, 2, 28, 107; 
language, 3 ; politics, ib. ; science of, 4 ; 
king of, ib. ; pyramids of, ib. ; art of, 8 ; 
animal worship of, 9; festivals of, 10 ; 
spread of religion, 19; atmosphere of, 
ib. ; Israelites in, 24; nature worship in, 
26 ; at war with David, 47 ; connected 
with Solomon, 53; connected with Jero- 
boam, 56; sea voyages, 59; conquered 
by Sennacherib, 75 ; conquered by Esar- 
haddon, 77, 78 ; subject princes in, 79; 
worship of Assur in, ib. ; subdued by As- 
syria, 93, 155; Greeks in, 154 ; revolt of, 
188 ; Athenians in, 188, 189 ; subdued by 
Artaxerxes, 189 ; sculpture of, 3 19 ; revolt 
of, 359, 302, 303 ; reconquered by Persia, 
401 ; occupied by Alexander, 416; under 
Ptoleirueus, 448 ; independence of, estab- 
lished, 452; under the Ptolemies, 400; 
prosperity of, 407. 

Elam rebels against Assyria, 79. 

Eli, death of, 38. 

Elijah, 62, 63. 

Hli'sha, 63. 

Empcdocles, 283 ; works of, 283, 318. 

Epameinondas, character of, 351-356 ; in- 
vades Sparta, 356 ; death of, 359. 

Ephesus, 130 ; occupied by Alexander, 409. 

Ephialtes, 200; assassinated, 212. 

Ephors, power of the, 134. 

Epidaurus, 126. 

Epinikia, the, 285. 

Eratosthenes, 468. 

Esarhaddon invades Egypt, 77. 

Ethiopia, Egypt annexed by, 72. 

Euclid, 468. 

Eumenes, seerotary of Philip, 449; death 
of, 450. 

Euneida?, the, 288. 

Eupatridffi at Athens, 139, 142. 

Euphrates, irrigation system of, 95. 

Euripides, rival of Sophocles, 300; view 
of gods, ib. ; tragedy of, 300, 301 ; " Tro- 
ades," 301; "Medcia," "Iphigeneia in 
Tauris," " Pboenissse," "Orestes," "An- 
dromache," "Iphigeneia in Aulis,"302; 
" Medcia," " Phredra," 303 ; invention 
of, ib. ; sides with Pindar, 304; philo- 
sophical spirit of, 305; religious views 
of, 332 ; quoted against Alexander. 421. 



INDEX. 



489 



Eurymedon, battle of, 187, 193. 
Exodus of Israelites, 25. 
Ezekiel, the prophet, 85. 

F. 

Ferver, in the Zend-Avesta, 113. 
Furies, the, 293. 

G. 

Games, gymnastic, 285. 

Gaugamela, battle of, 419. 

Gaza, attacked by Sargon, 72, 73 ; taken by 
storm, 415 ; battle of, 452 ; consequence 
uf battle, 455. 

Gedrosia, Alexander's retreat through, 434. 

Gcla, 131. 

Gelon, tyrant of Syracuse, 170. 

Genesis, book of, 21. 

Genghis Khan, invasion of, 108. 

Gerusia, the, 133. 

Getw attacked by Alexander, 39G. 

Gezer, kingdom of, 34. 

Gibborim, the, 49. 

Gibeon, surrender of, 31. 

Gideon, 36, 37. 

Gilgal, Joshua at, 31, 32. 

Gizeh, pyramids of, 4. 

Gordium, Alexander at, 410. 

Gorgias of Leontini, 321. 

Goshen, land of, 24. 

Graces, song favored by the, 286. 

Graneicus, battle of the, 406, 407. 

Greece, geography of, 116; mythology of, 
117-119; rites of, 118; politics of, 132; 
general weakness of, 361 ; relations with 
Persia, 365, 366 ; movement in, after Al- 
exander's death, 445. 

Greek, language, 110; colonies, 129, 130, 
157, 158; spontaneity, 158; supremacy 
in /Egoean sea, 179; naval superiority, 
187; cosmogony, 281; art, 319-321; 
philosophy, 321, 322 ; mercenaries, 363, 
364; culture, spread by Makedonians, 
392. 

Gyges of Lydia, 81,90, 91. 

Gymnasium, the, 218. 

II. 

Halicaknassus, siege of, 408. 

Halys, battle of, 92. 

Hamilcar, helps Agathocles, 477 ; death of, 

478. 
Hamilcar (son of Gisgo), 478, 
Hannibal, grandson of Hamilcar, 471. 
Haschop (Makara), 11. 
Hazael (Khazailu), 69. 
Hebrews, connected with Phoenicians, 60. 
Hebron, David at, 44. 
Hecatasus, the Milesian, 100. 
Hegemony, of Sparta, 208 ; of Hellas, 359, 

391; of Makedonia, 392. 



Helisea, the, 203. 

Hellas (see Greece). 

Hellespont bridged by Xerxes, 170. 

Helots, revolt, of the, 181 ; inclined to join 
Athens, 230 ; introduced into the armv, 
360. 

Hephrostion, slays Astes, 428; precedes 
Alexander, 430 ; his death, 440. 

Heracleidaj compared with Hebrews, 29. 

Heracles, pillars of, 88 ; legend of, 117, 118. 

Heracles (son of Alexander), murder of, 
451. 

Herma?, mutilation of the, 252. 

Hermias, tyrant of Atameus, 380. 

Hermocrates, defends Syracuse, 258 ; ex- 
iled, 471. 

Herodotus, 438; historic epos of, 169, 175; 
early life of, 305, 306; a traveler, 306; 
compared with Thukydides, ib.; work 
of, 308 ; information of, ib. ; history of 
Persian war, ib. ; charm of, 309 ; relig- 
ious views of, 310, 311, 332. 

Heshbon, kingdom of, 30. 

Hesiod, cosmogony of, 124, 281, 284. 

Hezekiah in Jerusalem, 75, 76. 

llimera, taken, 471 ; second battle of, 478. 

Himilco, 473; defeat and death of, 474. 

Hindoos, religion of the, 106. 

Hippias, and Hipparchus, 149; fall of, 
150; restoration of, 157, 161. 

Hiram, king of Tyre, 61. 

Homer, poems of, 120, 124; used by Pei- 
sistratus, 148 ; quoted by Phokians, 374. 

Homeric, hymns, 129, 148 ; ideas revived by 
Agesilaus, 340 ; by Alexander, 405, 406. 

Horeb, mount of, 26. 

Hosea, the prophet, 71. 

Hyksos, shepherd-kings, 10. 

Hyphasis, Alexander crosses the, 431. 

Hyrcania, 110. 

Hystaspis, father of Darius, 103. 

I. 

Iamidve, the, 288. 

Iliad compared with Nibelungenlied, 120 

(see Homer). 
Illyrians repulsed by Philip, 370. 
India, mythology of, 20; rumors about, 

426, 427 ; invaded by Alexander, 427 ; 

Greek connection with, 463 ; trade with, 

466. 
Indus, Alexander's vovage down the, 437, 

438. 
Ionians, revolt of, 159, 163. 
Iphicrates, 350. 
Iphigeneia, legend of, 118. 
Ipsus, battle of, 457. 
Isaac, father of Jacob, 24. 
Iscgoria, praised by Herodotus, 152. 
Ishbosheth, son of Saul, 45. 



490 



INDEX. 



Israel, independence of, 23 ; subjugation by 
the Assyrians, 75. 

Israelites, under Pharaoh, 25 ; conquest of 
Canaan, 29, 31 ; compared with Arabs 
and Spaniards, 35; compared with Do- 
rians, 126. 

Issus, battle of, 411, 412. 

Ithome conquered, 127. 



Jabesii, siege of, 41. 

Jacob, son of Isaac, 24. 

Jason, his voyage, 119; in Pindar, 2SG. 

Jaxartes crossed by Alexander, 42G. 

Jebus (see Jerusalem). 

Jehovah, antithesis of Baal, 21, 22, 28. 

Jehu, anointed king, G3 ; tributary to Sal- 
manassar, 70. 

Jemshid, monarch of legend, 114. 

Jeremiah the prophet, 85. 

Jericho, fall of, 29,32; (City of Palms), 36. 

Jeroboam, 56 ; king of the ten tribes, 58. 

Jerusalem (Jebus), 34; building of temple 
at, 53 ; Sennacherib lays siege to, 76 ; 
independence of, 77; taken by Necho, 
85; temple burned at, 86; spared by 
Alexander, 415. 

Jews, contact with Alexander, 415; influ- 
enced by Greece, 465. 

Jezebel, 62; confronts Elijah, 63; death of, 
64. 

Joab, David's general, 50; death of, 52, 

Joash, 64. 

Jonathan protects David, 43. 

Joppa, 13. 

Jordan, river, 31. 

Joseph in Egypt, 24. 

Josephus, history of, 30, 85. 

Joshua, book of, 29 ; son of Nun, 31 ; crosses 
Jordan, ib. ; his importance, 33. 

Josiah, king of Judah, 84. 

Judah, end of power of, 61. 

Judaism, religious idea of, 59. 

Judges, book of, 35. 

Julian, emperor, 20. 

Julius Cxsar adopts Egyptian calendar, 4. 

Justin compared with Diodorus, 477. 



Kadesii, seat of Cheta, 14; attacked by 
Sethos, ib. ; resistance against Egypt, 18. 

Karanos, title of, 343, 362. 

Kelts, mention of the, 396. 

Kidu (Chittim), 12. 

Kimon, son of Miltiades, 185, 186, 195; ex- 
pedition against Cyprus, 190 ; peace of, 
191 ; character of, 201 ; successes of, 
202; his services rejected, 207; recalled, 
ib. ; visits the god Anion, 418; death of, 
191, 208. 



Kings, book of, 51, 55, 59, 76. 

Kitium, ruins of, 74. 

Korkyra, 131; at war with Corinth, 221, 

222; taken by Athenians, 235. 
Kotytto, worship of, 326. 
Kyaxares, Median king, 91, 92; compared 

with Henry I., 92. 
Kybele, worship of, 326. 
Kylon, 139. 

Kynossema, battle of, 267. 
Kypselus, 135. 
Kyrene, Dorian colony, 131 ; Greeks in, 

470 ; occupied by Ophelias, 480. 
Kythera taken by Athenians, 235. 
Kyzikus, battle of, 267. 

L. 

Lade, battle of, 163. 

Lakediemon (see Sparta). 

Laodikeia, 464. 

Lebanon, cedars of, 15, 46, 54, 68. 

Leonidas, 171. 

Lcosthenes, revolt of, 446. 

Leotychides, flight of, 181. 

Lesbos, 130; revolt of, 228; revolt sup- 
pressed, 229. 

Leuctra, battle of, 356. 

Locke, remarks on man, 22. 

Long walls, building of the, 189; their ob- 
ject, 206; destruction, 273; restoration, 
350. 

Lot, nephew of Abraham, 23. 

Luxor, edifices of, 19. 

Lyceum, the, 218. 

Lycurgus, legend of, 128, 137. 

Lydia, war against Media, 92 ; kings of, 
154 ; kingdom destroyed, ib. ; does not 
join Ionians, 102 ; Cyrus satrap of, 343. 

Lysander, character of, 271 ; at iEgospo- 
tami, 272 ; influence of, 278, 342 ; death 
of, 349. 

Lysimachus, Thracian satrap, 456, 457 ; 
subdued by Seleucus, 461. 

M. 

Macians, tribe of the Medes, 100. 

Magyars compared with Scythians, 92. 

Makara (Haschop), 12. 

Makedonia, king of, 157, 220; people of, 
368 ; tendencies of, 371 ; at war with 
Athens, 372; monarchy of, 392; army 
of, after Alexander's death, 442, 445 ; un- 
der Cassander, 456 ; under Demetrius, 
459, 460. 

Malli, attack on the, 433. 

Malta, 470. 

Mamre, 13. 

Manetho, 467. 

Mantineia, battle of, 245, 359; union dis- 
solved, 352. 



INDEX. 



491 



Marathon, battle of, 167,201. 

Mardonius, 164 ; at Plataea, 177, 178 ; his 

death, 179. 
Massaga taken, 428, 429. 
Massagetae, the, 90 ; Cyrus attacks, 96. 
Medes, in Asia, 92 ; their origin, 93. 
Media, kingdom of, 89, 98; war against 

Lydia, 93 ; satrapy of, 110 (see Persia). 
Megara, 136. 
Megiddo, 13, 15. 
Melchizedek, 23, 24. 
Melos taken by Alkibiades, 245. 
Memnon, in Asia Minor, 402 ; beaten at the 

Graneicus, 407 ; in supreme command, 

410. 
Memphis founded by Menes, 5. 
Menahem, 71. 

Menes, founder of Egyptian monarchy, 5. 
Mentor, in the pay of Persia, 365, 366; 

power of, in Asia Minor, 366 ; death of, 

402. 
Mcrodach-Baladan, 74. 
Meroe conquered by Cambyscs, 97. 
Merom, lake, 32. 

Mesopotamia (Naharain), 12 ; power of, 35. 
Messenians, 127 ; revolt of the, 181 ; war of 

the, 200. 
Midianites, tribe of the, 30; invade Israel, 

35 ; defeat of, 37. 
Miletus, 130 ; surrender of, 408. 
Miltiades, wins at Marathon, 167; death of, 

195. 
Mines in Thrace, 199. 
Moab, tribe of, 23, 30, 35; conquered bv 

David, 47. 
Mceris, lake of, 6. 
Moloch (Baal), 21, 55. 
Monsoons first known, 435. 
Moses, announces Jehovah, 21 ; cosmogonv 

of, 21,22,25; polity of, 27, 31. 
Mothakes, the, 271. 
Muzri, land of, 70. 
Mycale, battle of, 180, 193. 
Mytilene, 130 ; sentence on, 230. 

N. 

Naharain (Mesopotamia), 12, 15. 

Nathan, prophet, 52, 53. 

Nations, list of, in Genesis, 59, GO. 

Naupactus, 206. 

Naxos subdued, 199. 

Nearchus, Admiral, 434. 

Nebuchadnezzar, 83 ; conquers Necho, 84 ; 

besieges Jerusalem, 85 ; in Phoenicia, 87 ; 

legend of, 88. 
Necho (the first), 79 ; (the second), 84 ; 

takes Jerusalem, ib. ; contemplates a 

canal, 153. 
Nectancbus, 360 ; seeks aid from the Greeks, 

363. 



Nikias, peace of, 240; sent to Sparta, 243; 
opposes Sicilian expedition, 249; sails 
for Syracuse, 255 ; death, 259. 

Nile, inundations of, 2 ; identified with 
Deity, 4, 19. 

Nemesis, idea of, 311. 

Nineveh (settlement), 65 ; capital of Assy- 
rian empire, 81 ; ruin of, 81, 90 ; religion 
of, 90 ; fall of, 92. 

Ninus, 65. 

Nitocris, legend of, 6. 

Noah, his three sons, 59. 

O. 

Odyssky, the, 123. 
(Enophyta, battle of, 207. 
Ogj king of Bashan, 30. 
Omphis, son of Taxiles, 427. 
Onomarchus, 374; death of, 375. 
Ophelias, occupies Kvrene, 480 ; death of, 

481. 
Oligarchies in Greek States, 143. 
Olympias, wife of Philip, 393 ; influence on 

Alexander, 404 ; recalled to Makedonia, 

450; death of, 451. 
Olympic games, 128; Sparta excluded 

'from, 244. 
Olynthus, importance of, 371,376; rivalry 

with Athens, 372; taken by Philip, 377. 
Oracles, use of, 325. 
Ormuzd, god of Persia, 106, 112. 
Orthagoridae, the, 136. 
Osiris tvpified bv Apis, 4. 
Ostracism, 183, 214. 
Otys, king of Paphlagonia, 348. 

P. 

Palimboi - hra, kingdom of, 455. 

Panhellenism, defective in Greece, 170, 
177 ; invoked against Persia, 208; in Ar- 
istophanes, 241 ; invoked against Philip, 
387. 

Palmyra, 110. 

Papacy and Empire compared with history 
of Israel, 58. 

Paphlagonia, 109. 

Parmenio, sent to Asia Minor, 391, 394; 
conspiracy of, 424. 

Paropameisus, country of the, 427. 

Parsua, the, 93. 

Parthenon, the, 216. 

Parthia, under Persia, 110; revolt of, 463. 

Pausanias, Spartan king, 179; retires to 
Byzantium, 130; his death, 181; com- 
pared with Themistocles, 184 ; arrogance 
of, 197. 

Pausanias, second Spartan king, 278. 

Peiraus, fortification of the, 182; descrip- 
tion of, 217. 

Peisistratida?, the, 157. 



492 



INDIA. 



lYisistr.il us, friend of Solon. 1 17; velum of. 
IIS. 

Pelopidas, character of. 855; .it the court 
of Artaxcrxes, 858, 

Peloponnesian league, '.Ml; origin of war. 
221; beginning of war, 222; war re- 
newed, 26] ; end o( war. 278; re-estab- 
lished, 862. 

Pelops, legend << 118,285, 

Pentacosiomedimni, the. 197. 

Perdiccas, kin-- of Makedonia, 286, 869, 

, Macedonian general, 448; becomes 

chiliarch, ill; opposed by other gener- 
als, 1 18 ; murder of, 1 19, 

Periander, !">.">. 

Pericles, 194 ; head of democracy, 202; sup- 
ported by Ephialtes, ib, .- reforms of, 208 : 
legislation of, 204; administration of. 
209; at Delphi, ft.; leader of the Demos, 
21 1 ; character of, 218, --••J."> ; busl of. 21 1 ; 
care of navy, 215 ; prepares tor war, 222 ; 
death of, 225, 

Perinthus attacked by Philip, 882, 

Perioeki, the, 177; introduced into army, 
860. 

Pcrsepolis, buildings of, 111 ; Alexander at, 
421. 

l'-.rsii. eastern origin ■. i - religion ' 
105, 107 ; monarchy, 98 : inscriptions, 99 : 
formation of empire, L04; solidity i>( 
power, 108; rise of monarchy, L58, 155; 
growth of empire, 157, 160; first inva- 
sion of Greece, 165; second invasion, 
169; war continued, 185; Sparta allied 
with, 260; influence of Greece, 270; at- 
tacked by Span i. 846; allied with Vill- 
ous, 848; allied with Sparta, 850; ob- 
tains suzerainty over Greece, 852, 868; 
allied with Thebes, 858; growing power 
of, 861 ; relations with Greece, 865; res- 
toration of,in Asia Minor, 880; Alexan- 
der renews war with, 394 ; weakness *>(. 
408; invaded by Alexander, 106. 

Pharnabozus, '.M7. .1 16. 

Pheidias, 201 ; art o\\ 217, 820; statue v( 
Zeus by, 821. 

Pheidon, tyrant of ArgOS, 128. 

Philip, king *>( Makedonia, 861 ; education 
of, 870 ; forms an army, /.'>. .■ repulses the 
Ulyrians, ib,; first efforts of, o7l ; di- 
plomacy of, 872 : seizes Amphipolis, ib, : 
military monarchy of, 878; attacks the 
Phokians, 875 ; master ofThessaly, ift.; 
occupies Chalkidike, 876; takes Olyn- 
thus, /,'>. .• takes Delphi, 878; ai the 
Pythian games, ib,; again at war with 
Alliens, 882; expedition against the 
Scythians, 888; appointed Strategus, 
B85; poliiieal work of,892; death of, 893; 
compared with kings of Prussia, 894, 



Philistines, conquer the Delta, 10; cods of 

the, 88; victory of Israel over, II ; .shel- 
ter David, 18; power of, r>; influence 
on Israel, 61; reduced by Assur, 70; 
conquered by Sargon, 7;>; subjugated by 

Assyrians, 76. 
Philolaus, 185. 
Philomelus, ">7 1. 
Philon, the architect, B80. 
Phmbidas, 858. 
Phoanicia, traces of, in Egypt, 10; religion 

>>r. 19; commerce of, .''•.», »'><>, i'. I ; revolt 

of, 862. 
Phoenicians, voyages <-■(. 59 ; connected with 

the Hebrews, 60; colonies o( the, 129; 

retire before Greeks, 180; in the west, 

181; importance of navy, 168,411; in- 
ferior to Greeks, 186. 
Phokians, their supremacy at Delphi, 209; 

eager for independence, 874; excluded 

from Amphictyonic league, 878. 
Phokion, commands Athenian fleet, 862; 

opposes war with Philip, I 15. 
Phraortes, revolt of, 102. 
Phratrise, 188. 
Phrynichus, 262, 
Pindar, mythology of, 285; morality <>f. 

286; views of, 291 ; preference forjEgina, 

288 ; religious views o(, "•.'!'.'. 
Plague at Athens, 224, 
Platssa, battle of, 177 ; Theban attempt on, 

222 ; reduced, 232. 
Plato, early life of, 380; Best for travelling, 

l"6. : phases of life of, 831 : dialogues of, 
religious views of. 882; attacks the 
Sophists, 833 ; " Euthydemus," " Hiete- 
tetus," i!\ : "Sophist," •• Euthyphron," 
•• Laws." .">;'. I ; " Timseus," 885 ; doctrine 
of the soul, 837 ; " Republic," 888. 

Pleistoanax invades Attica, 210. 

Plutarch, life >.<( Epameinondas, 866. 

Polcmarchs in Thebes, - : 

Polycrates in Samoa, 186. 

Polygnotus, painter, 201 ; ideal of, 820. 

Polysperchon allied with Eumenes, lot). 

Pontus, kings o(, 468. 

1'orns opposes Alexander, 480. 

Potid8oa,220,221 ; taken by Athenians, 286, 

Promanteia, the, 2Q§. 

Prometheus, 290. 

Protagoras of Abdera, 821, 822; expelled 
from Athens, 826. 

Psammetichus, son o( Necho, 83, 91, 

Pseudo-Smerdis, 100. 

Ptah, god o( Egypt, ". 

Ptolemssus (son of Lagus), IIS; beaten by 
Demetrius, 452; proclaimed king, 464, 

Ptolemies, the, 166, 

Public Peace, league of the, 890, 897, -17G. 

Punt, land of balm. 12, 



INDEX. 



493 



Pyramids of Gizeh, 4. 
Pythagoras, in Ephesus, 136; doctrines of, 
"'282; league of, 283. 

K. 

Ea, god of Egypt, 3, 17. 
Rameses-Miamun, 17. 

Rchoboam succeeds Solomon, 56. 
Ketcnnu, the, 12. 

Rhodes, her colonies, 131 ; resists Deme- 
trius, 464. 
Rome, first appearance of, 483. 
Roxana, 443. 
Rutcn (Palestine), 11, 12, 15. 

S. 

Sacred Hand, the, 350; destruction of, 
388. 

Sacred war, begun, 374; continued, 378. 

Salami?, recovered by Athens, 140; battle 
of, 174; battle near (Cyprian), 192. 

Salmanassar, 69; death of, 72. 

Samas, the god, 72. 

Samos, first revolt of, 214; fleet at, 2G5. 

Samuel, the prophet, 38; removes gods of 
the Philistines, ib. ; selects a king lor 
Israel, 40; quarrel with Saul, 41 ; school 
of the prophets founded bv, 55 ; books of, 
58. 

Samson, 37. 

Sandrocottus, rise of, 455. 

Sardanapalus, 65 ; legend of, 83. 

Sardis, seat of Persian satrapy, 95, 109; 
burning of, 1G2; taken by Alexander, 
408. 

Sargou (Sarkin), attacks Gaza, 72; con- 
quers Arabia, 73 ; death of, 75. 

Satrapies of Persia, 109. 

Saul, elected king, 41; his conquests, ib.; 
death, 43. 

Schasu (Bedouin Arabs), 14. 

Scythian tribes, 90; at Ephesus, 91 ; inva- 
sion of Semitic world by, 93; attacked 
by Philip, 383 ; by Alexander, 395. 

Seisachtheia at Athens, 141, 144. 

Seleucus (Nicator), in Babylon, 454: en- 
larges his dominions, 458; his history. 
462 ; dominion of, ib. ; founder of cities, 
4G4. 

Seleukeia, 462, 464. 

Semele, legend of, 439. 

Semiramis, 65. 

Sennacherib, conquers Egypt, 75; besieges 
Jerusalem, 76. 

Septuagint, the, 467. 

Sesostris, legend of, 18. 

Sethos I., II. 

Seti, king, 15. 

Sheba, queen of, 55. 

Shcmaiah the prophet, 57. 



Shepherd -kings in Egypt, 10; receive 
Moses, 24. 

Shepherd-peoples in Egypt, 1. 

Sheshon, expedition against Judah, 72. 

Sliiloh, ark of the covenant at, 33; settle- 
ment of tribes at, 34; laid waste, 38. 

Shishak,*wai with Judah, 61. 

Sicilian expedition, origin of, 248; depart- 
ure of, 254 ; destruction of, 259. 

Sicily, colonies of, 131; Dorians in, 248; 
invaded by Athens, 253; intellectual in- 
fluence of, 321 ; rivalry of Carthage and 
Syracuse in, 469. 

Sidon, independent of Israel, 31 ; its antiq- 
uity, 60; subdued by Assyria, 68, 76; 
betrayed by the Persians, 363. 

Sikyon, 126; school of art at, 137.. 

Sinai, 21. 25. 

Singar (Shinar), 15. 

Sisicottus, 427. 

Sisygambis, mother of Darius, 443. 

Slaves, traffic in, 141. 

Socrates, friendship with Alkibiades, 247; 
opposes condemnation of generals, 271; 
dialectic of, 323 ; principles of, 324 ; op- 
poses Anaxagoras, ib. ; in Aristophanes, 
325 ; political views of, 326 ; trial of, 328 ; 
daemon of, ib. ; death of, 329. 

Sogdiana, 110. 

Solomon, anointed king, 52; his marriage, 
53 ; alliance with Tyre, ib. ; compared to 
Pharaoh, 54 ; government of, 56 ;■ death 
of, 56. 

Solon, legislator, 137; reforms of, 140; 
timocracy founded by, 142; poetical re- 
mains of, 144 ; unlike Moses, 146 ; bust 
of, ib. 

Sophists, principles of the, 322. 

Sophocles, characters of, 294; " CEdipus 
Rex," ib. ; " Trachinia;," "Aias," 295; 
" Antigone," "CEdipus at Colonus,"296; 
" Electra," 297; employs the Tritago- 
nist, 296; compared with .Esehylus, 297; 
resistance to tyrannical power, 298; lan- 
guage of, 300; religious views of, 332. 

Spain, Phoenician settlement in, 470. 

Spaniards compared to Israelites, 35. 

Sparta, her constitution, 127, 133; at Ther- 
mopylae, 171 ; after Persian war, 180 ; 
declines naval supremacy, 198; difficul- 
ties of, 200; antagonism with Athens, 
ib.; allied with Thebes, 206; refuses to 
join Athens against Persia, 208 ; breach 
with Athens, 220; helps Syracuse, 258; 
allied with Persia, 260; supremacy of, 
277; makes war on Persia, lilt!; allied 
with Persia, 350; end of supremacy, 
356; decay of, 360; will not oppose 
Philip, 387; nor Antipater, 446. 

Spartiatse, the, 177. 



494 



INDEX. 



Sphacteria, battle of, 233, 235. 

Sphinx, story of the, 111). 

Strabo, 308. 

Sultan (Siltan), 73. 

Susa, 112; taken by Alexander, 421. 

Sutech (Baal), 2, 11, 17. 

Sychcm, scat of secular power, 31; meet- 
ing of tribes at, 66. 

Symmachia of the Hellenes, 179. 

Syracuse, founded, 1S1; siege of, 258; 
struggle with Carthage, 4G9; change of 
constitution in, 472; besieged by llimil- 
co, 473; renews war with Carthage, 
475. 

Syrian monarchy, the, -1(34. 



Taanach, 13. 

Tanagra. battles of, 207, 235. 

Tantalus, story of, 285. 

Taraco, king of Kush, 78, 79. 

Tarshish, GO. 

Tartcssus, independence of, 81 ; submits to 
Carthage, 170. 

Taulantii beaten by Alexander, 397. 

Taxiles joins Alexander, 430. 

Tegeia, ally of Sparta, 244. 

Temenos, the, 121. 

Ten Thousand, retreat of the, 345. 

Tbachis, land of, 13. 

Thales, 130, 281. 

Thasos subdued, 199. 

Theagenes, 136. 

Thebes (in Egypt), G; (in Boeotia), 135; 
sides with l'ersia, 17G; allied with 
Sparta, 20G; attacks Plataca, 222; aids 
Thrasybulus, 277; breach with Sparta, 
352; wins hegemony, 355 ; allied with 
Persia, 358; held in check by Athens 
and Sparta, 359; allied with Philip, 
378; allied with Athens, 3SG; destroyed, 
399. 

Themistocles, 172, 174; power of, 181; 
character of, 182; flight of, 183; fate of, 
184, 195, 197. 

Theramenes, 275 ; his death, 27G. 

Thermopylae, battle of, 171. 

Theseus, legend of, 118. 

Thessaly, republic of, 288. 

Thirty Tyrants, the, 275; expelled, 27'.'. 

Thirty Years' Truce, the, 211. 



Thrace, maritime districts of, 149 ; under 
Lysimachus, 455. 

Thrasybulus, 278. 

Thukydides, oldest exact historian, 149 ; 
his failure at Eion, 239 ; of Athenian 
birth, 306; compared with Herodotus, 
ib.; merits of, 310; advance made by, 
312; history of, 313; descriptive power 
of, 314; speeches of, 31G, 317, 471. 

Thutmosis (I.), 11; (II.), ib.; (III.), 12. 

Tiglath-Pileser, 71. 

Timocracy of Athens, 142. 

Timolcon, 380, 474 ; death of, 474. 

Tissaphernes, 2G0; supports Alkibiades, 
264 ; his vacillating policy, 2G7 ; his 
death, 347. 

Titans, the, 285. 

Triballi, attack Philip, 383; beaten by Al- 
exander, 39G. 

Tribes (of Israel), march of the, 33 ; settle- 
ment in Canaan, 34; rebellion of ten, 57; 
(of Attica), 138, 151. 

Triremes invented, 132. 

Trojan war, 119. 

Turn, god of Egypt, 17. 

Tutanch-Amon, 14. 

Tyrants, the Greek, 135; hatred of, in 
Greece, 381. 

Tyre, religion of, 19, GO, G2; subdued by 
Assyria, G8; besieged by Nebuchadnez- 
zar, 87 ; taken by Alexander, 414. 



V. 



Yendidap, the, 10G. 



Xencthanks, 281. 

Xenophon, on the ruin of Nineveh, 82 ; 

his " Cyropredeia," 107, 115 ; " Anabasis," 

110,846. 

Xerxes, invasion of, 1G9 ; flight of, 175, 187 ; 
bis claim to the throne, 343. 

Z. 

Zadok, high-priest, 52. 
Zarathnstra, 106. 
Zedekiah, king, S5. 
Zend-Avesta, the, 105-107, 113. 
Zeus, 121. 

Zion (Jehus, Jerusalem), 45. 
Zoroaster, religion of, 110. 



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BULWER'S LIFE AND LETTERS. Life, Letters, and Literary Remains of 
Edward Buhver, Lord Lytton. By his Son, the Earl of Lytton ("Owen 
Meredith"). Volume I. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $2 75. 



10 Valuable Works for Public and Private Libraries. 

BULWER'S HORACE. The Odes and Epodes of Horace. A Metrical Trans- 
Iation into English. With Introduction and Commentaries. With Latin 
Text from tlie Editions of Orelli, Macleane, and Yonge. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75. 

BULWER'S MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. Miscellaneous Prose Works of 
Edward Bulwer, Lord Lytton. In Two Volumes. 12mo, Cloth, $3 50. 

PERRY'S ENGLISH LITERATURE. English Literature in the Eighteenth 
Century. By Thomas Sergeant Perky. 12mo, Cloth, $2 00. 

TROLLOPE'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. An Autobiography. By Anthony 
Trollope. With a Portrait. 12mo, Cloth, $1 25. 

TROLLOPE'S CICERO. Life of Cicero. By Anthony Trollope. 2 vols., 
12mo, Cloth, $3 00. 

EATON'S CIVIL SERVICE. Civil Service in Great Britain. A History of 
Abuses and Reforms, and their Bearing upon American Politics. By Dorman 
B. Eaton. Svo, Cloth, $2 50. 

PERRY'S HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. A History of 
the English Church, from the Accession of Henry VIII. to the Silencing of 
Convocation. By G. G. Perry, M.A. With a Sketch of the History of the 
Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, by J. A. Spencer, S.T.D. 
Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 50. 

ABBOTT'S HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. The French 
Revolution of 1789, as Viewed in the Light of Republican Institutions. By 
John S. C. Abbott. Illustrated. Svo, Cloth, $5 00 ; Sheep, $5 50 ; Half 
Calf, $7 25. 

ABBOTT'S NAPOLEON. The History of Napoleon Bonaparte. By John S. 
C.Abbott. Maps, Illustrations, and Portraits. 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $10 00; 
Sheep, fll 00; Half Calf, $14 50. 

ABBOTT'S NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA. Napoleon at St. Helena ; or, 
Anecdotes and Conversations of the Emperor during the Years of his Captivity. 
Collected from the Memorials of Las Casas, O'Meara, Montholon, Antom- 
marchi, and others. By J. S. C. Abbott. Illustrated. Svo, Cloth, $5 00 ; 
Sheep, $5 50 ; Half Calf, $7 25. 

ABBOTTS FREDERICK THE GREAT. The History of Frederick the Sec- 
ond, called Frederick the Great. By John S. C. Abbott. Illustrated. Svo, 
Cloth, $5 00 ; Half Calf, $7 25. 

M'CARTHY'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. A History of Our Own Times, 

from the Accession of Queen Victoria to the General Election of 1880. By 

Justin M'Carthy. 2 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $2 50. 
WATSON'S MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS. By Paul Barron 

Watson. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 50. 
FOLK-LORE OF SHAKESPEARE. By the Rev. T. F. Tiiiselton Dyer, 

M.A., Oxon., Author of "British Popular Customs, Past and Present." 8vo, 

Cloth, $2 50. 
THOMSON'S THE GREAT ARGUMENT. The Great Argument ; or, Jesus 

Christ in the Old Testament. By W. H. Thomson, M.A., M.D. Crown Svo, 

Cloth, $2 00. 



